


Five Nights at Scoobys

by SoraMJigen



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated (TV 2010)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Violence, Brutal Murder, Child Death, Child Murder, Crossover, Crushes, Crying, Death, Death-T, Decapitation, Developing Relationship, F/M, Food, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Ghosts, Haunting, Horror, Insanity, Investigations, Kissing, Men Crying, Mental Breakdown, Missing Persons, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Paranormal, Possession, Post-Five Nights at Freddy's 1, Relationship(s), Romance, Secrets, Souls, The Bite of '87
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 91,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraMJigen/pseuds/SoraMJigen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FNAF x SD. When Mystery Inc learns about the iconic haunted pizzeria, they decide to go see just how haunted the place is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Fazbear's

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember the last time I did a crossover, but this should be fun.

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was on the brink of closing. Health complaints were launched, children had disappeared, and even the animatronics were acting rather strange. Day by day, the customers came less and less. At night though, teenagers often dared each other to enter the closed pizzeria, having heard rumors of the animatronics coming to life at night. How long could one stay in there before fear dominated them and made them run home? Could one find an animatronic and if they did, was it moving? Was it alive with the sound of children that so many people claimed to have heard? 

Well, Mystery Inc. was about to find out.

They didn’t know the terrifying experiences of the alleged haunted pizza palace filled with animatronics and darkness. Velma managed to find this place while browsing the Internet for any local mysteries. The haunting of Freddy Fazbear’s was one that constantly dominated every list she had stumbled upon and in a way, it called to her like a painting in an art gallery. Something lost, something strange, something just waiting to be explored. Without hesitation she told everyone else who seemed intrigued, but wondered that maybe if this was just a little too dark. That these were waters not to be walked upon and to let the past rest, knowing from their experiences. But they had encountered many dark situations before: witnessing Shaggy and Scooby transform into temporary zombies on Zombie Island, running from unspeakable monstrosities, and even being transported to different lands by a digital ghost. 

They knew they could handle these encounters and that Fazbear’s would be a walk in the park. Over the years their bravery had built up from their mysteries and yet it would still get the best of them, just like anyone else. Besides, it was a pizzeria; how bad could it actually be? 

“So where’s it located again?”

“On the edge of Brigton, we’re not too far from it, actually.”

Brigton was a small city in the Midwest that tried to make itself look like a wealthy paradise. The main town’s boulevard lined with pastel buildings promoting small businesses and family ran businesses. Shaggy and Scooby’s mouth watered at the thousand of cafes on the sidewalk serving up small town comfort food that made their stomachs grumble. Despite the fact that they had all just eaten lunch at a rather nice but casual buffet, the two were still starving or so they believed. Froyo shops danced before them, pizza joints called out to them, and bakeries stared at them as the Mystery Machine drove by. 

Sunlit street posts were adorned with ivory branches; little flags of the town’s name and an anemone blossom were adorned on white cloths. Just behind the clean sidewalks of the main boulevard were suburbanite homes and rich complexes. It was a town no one had ever heard of and never rested on the map as an iconic location like New York or Las Vegas. Through the main street, the illusion of wealth faded into pot holed filled streets which led up to a shopping plaza. Daphne’s eyes immediately gazed over the boutiques, her eyes never leaving the window displays of pink summer gowns. Fred smiled, watching her from the corner of his eye and he knew without a doubt that he would buy her one of those dresses once this mystery was solved. He would do it for the mere sake that he adored her as though she were Aphrodite and he was nothing more than a mere man who had been blessed by her. She knew this and smiled, feeling his affectionate gaze upon her. 

Past the shopping plaza was a place that made the van seem to stop on its own. Vibrant shades of crimson and yellow matched a large, glowing pizza. Glowing, dancing music notes circled the shining pizza , distracting eyes from the peeling paint. ‘Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza’ shined like a supernova in the windows, a few of its letters flickering and others empty without any light. The building towered over the highway and imposed a certain, crawling feeling down people’s spines. Velma and Fred felt this establishment’s eeriness and attempted to ignore it. But with every second they tried to shrug it off it only grew stronger, like an oncoming storm. Daphne was intrigued, though questioning how this seemingly knockoff Chuck E Cheese could be terrifying. But in the eyes of Shaggy and Scooby, the pizza immediately won them over. Thank God, there was going to be more food.

“This is it,” Fred spoke as he pulled the van into a nearly desolate parking lot. A few cars lingered, mini vans as old as the pizzeria.

Upon entering the building, they were greeted with a large stage accompanied by three animatronics. A blue bunny seemed to be crooning some lyrics with a guitar. A bear in a top hat sang into a microphone, his voice carrying over the sound system to the delight of children. A chick grooved to the robotic tune, influencing children to dance before her, matching her static movements. Checkered floors clicked with Daphne’s heels as she looked around, a birthday party for a little boy was in full swing. Parents doted about their children, the mother of the birthday boy handing him presents from the others. 

Not too far from the party, an associate’s eyes darted between the customers and the animatronics who danced and sang on stage. Shaggy and Scooby made a mad dash by the associate, taking over a vacant table and receiving pizza within a matter of minutes. Approaching the associate, Fred noticed how tense his scrawny shoulders were like a clear line across his frame, much like the edgy line that posed as a smile on his face. His balled fists were tucked deep into his black pockets, a crimson shirt with the logo on the front breast. 

“Excuse us, sir. We’re looking for the owner of Freddy Fazbear’s-“

“Why?”

Silence tensed between Fred and the associate. Fred furrowed his brow at the sudden abruptness of this question and quietly wondered if there was more than met the eye with this place. Velma did mention the disappearance of five children and how the animatronics would act on their own. She was unable to find the list of health complaints launched against the pizzeria, but it was rather odd; what would health complaints have to do with disappearing children? He felt his heart resonate one lone beat, jogging his thoughts into a series of questions and reasons that could possibly answer the worker’s question. His throat ran dry, watching the associate with Velma and Daphne by his sides. 

“People don’t come here often. You know, unless it’s punks who want to dare each other to go in at night. But other than that, not many people come here.”

“Why so, sir?”

The worker’s eyes narrowed, as if studying Fred, a complete foreigner to this town as well as his friends. They were probably like anyone else who had heard the dark mysteries behind this establishment. But they weren’t the typical teenage punks. Instead, they were older with nothing more than curiosity. Though the worker swore he had seen them somewhere before, he couldn’t recall where. Sighing, he ran a slender hand through his copper hair and lowered his voice. 

“Well, five kids disappeared here not too long ago. Some claim that a man in a golden version of Freddy lured them to the back. ”

“Freddy?”

The associate pointed to the top hat wearing bear singing into a microphone. 

“We have four animatronics here. Freddy the bear, Bonnie the bunny, Chica the chick, and Foxy the pirate fox. But we’ve never had a Golden Freddy . It’s been considered before, but never put into action. Even so, it doesn’t make sense! It’s a fu- damn robot! No one can get in that! And besides, you don’t want to come here at night.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say the animatronics have a mind of their own.”

Upon hearing a woman call the associate over to the party, he left Fred, Velma, and Daphne to their thoughts. The worker had confirmed everything that Velma told them, but he didn’t go into specifics. If they could just find the manager, then they would be able to possibly obtain more answers. Looking around there appeared to be no manager in sight. They were probably in their office, wherever that was. But now that Velma thought about it, would a manager really disclose the events of this restaurant to a couple of out of town adults like themselves? For all the manager knew they could be with some sort of press and want to exploit the pizzeria’s story even further. 

“Maybe we can talk to the manager,” Fred spoke as he took a seat next to Shaggy.

“Fred, do you think he will tell us anything?”

“Possibly. There’s only one way to find out.”

“But think about it,” Velma started.

“If you were a business owner and your business had some dark mystery to it, would you really tell it to people like us?”

They held no authority like the police did despite their many years of mystery solving. If the manager (or anyone in this town or restaurant) wanted them to come to Freddy Fazbear’s for a certain reason, then they would have been contacted. Instead, Velma had found this restaurant on a list of the top fifty haunts in America. Coming here was originally nothing more than to see just exactly how haunted this place was and why. 

But then the missing children incident and the Bite of 87 appeared and Velma’s heart pounded like with terror and curiosity. When she informed everyone else, they were immediately met with the same response. Shaggy and Scooby were naturally reluctant, but baited by the notion that this was in a pizzeria. No more was it just as a test to see how haunted this place was, but an actual mystery. Where had the children gone to and why were they never found? Clearly there was more to this place and it was just begging to be looked into. 

Velma had a point, now that Fred thought about it. Were they the police or someone else of the law, then the manager would possibly discuss the pizzeria’s past. But given their status, it was a high chance that the manager wouldn’t speak to them regarding the restaurant’s history. The missing children’s parents would only know so much, but perhaps they could gain some information from them. They wouldn’t know much other than the fact that their child had disappeared in some fashion, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Velma, can you find any of the missing children’s reports?”

“Most likely.”

“Well gang, we’re going to – “

“Excuse me, are you Mystery Inc.?”

Looking over, Fred was met with a young woman in her thirties. A black dress covered her slightly chubby frame and matched her tired bags beneath her hazel eyes. A summer hat of the same shade covered her black hair and uncertain expression. She seemed to carry the weight of the world on her back, as she bit her lower lip nervously, scared that the people before her were not who she thought them to be. 

The police had helped none and not even the manager had assisted her. Even after months of grieving and worrying, no word of her daughter had surfaced, forcing her to believe that her little girl was deceased. But like the mother she was, she refused to believe such a thing. Hope carried her like Apollo on his chariot to make her think her daughter was still alive somewhere within the restaurant or hopefully, someplace close by. Maybe she had escaped from her attacker and ran off; she didn’t know and after the fruitless days of searching, she needed an answer. If the answer was to come from the adults before her, then the weight would be lifted, and she would be at ease. 

“Yes we are.”

“My name is Amy Grace, I’m one of the mothers who children went missing here.”

Fred immediately grabbed a free chair from another table and pulled it up to the table, offering the woman a seat. Shaking her head softly, Daphne and Velma carefully watched the woman. She held herself rather well despite the gloom overtaking her frame in her appearance and voice. With her head bowed, she watched waiters who observed her from the corner of her eyes. She didn’t have much time, but relief filled her like a glass of water. She had found someone who would possibly help her. Hurriedly writing something on a napkin, she slipped it to Fred which made Daphne instantly look at him. 

“Meet me at my house. I do not wish to speak here, they hate when I’m here. I’m only mourning the disappearance of my child that I lost here – do I not have that right?”

“No, ma’am I’m sure you do-“

“Good, you agree. Come in an hour. I’ll see you then.”

Quickly turning on her heel, she walked rather rapidly out of the restaurant, the waiters’ eyes never leaving her. As she crossed the threshold, their bated breath and relentless stare melted away. Fred examined the address, remembering the street name before reaching Fazbear’s. Smiling softly, he shoved the napkin into his pocket and looked around at the servers who returned to their duties, watching the gang from the corners of their eyes.

“I swear she’s one of the reasons why we’re losing business,” a waiter murmured to another.

“Yeah. Well the other parents don’t help and it’s not our fault. We’re new here, we don’t know what happened,” the other waiter replied, his shoulders hanging with a heaviness that was immediately swept away by a child’s request for another soda. 

“Well gang, looks like we got our first lead,” Fred spoke with a confidence that lit up Velma’s eyes and made Shaggy and Scooby stop eating for once. The mystery was just about to begin and there would be no running away from it.


	2. Ghosts

Amy Grace’s home was in the middle of a suburban neighborhood on Delilah Road not too far from the center of town. It was a quaint little ranch house that externally lacked the luxury the other rich complexes flaunted in Brigton. Wilted flower beds rested beneath at the front door, shrouding the house in a veil of gloom. Faded bricks surrounded windows that drank sunlight like a fine wine. Parted curtains allowed some visibility into the house where Mrs. Grace sat at the front most window. Her hazel eyes stared as though they were made of stone, never blinking only when the Mystery Machine had pulled into the driveway with Fred, Daphne, and Velma. They had left Shaggy and Scooby at the pizzeria to find out any information on the place and to finish their fifteen pizzas. 

Mrs. Grace’s eyes softened as she welcomed the trio into her musty home. The smell of Febreeze covered up a distinct, mothball dust scent. Cobwebs clung to corners and walls, making Fred, Daphne, and Velma remember the mysteries solved in haunted houses. Fred smirked at the notion that at any moment a ghost could spring out at them or wail from within the wall. It wouldn’t surprise him, as it had happened many times before and every time it would still get the best of him. Which made him wonder, if the little girl was missing, would she be a ghost haunting this house? And if so, why had she not come forth to reassure her mother that she was hopefully all right?

A dusty leather couch greeted them and made Daphne cringe. It seemed as though the house had been abandoned for years and only now had a resident. A delicate tea set rested on the coffee table, tiny spiders making homes in cups. Another coffee table sat beside the couch, supporting porcelain knick knacks of blue and grey dolphins. In the center of the dolphins rested a photograph of Amy Grace and a little girl no more than eight years old with ebony pigtails. She wore denim overalls dotted with white, faded stars and a yellow shirt beneath, bringing out her cheery grin. As they walked through the house, they noticed pictures of the little girl everywhere, including a few accomplishments from her school days. Most Helpful Student, Renaissance Awards, Student of the Month. Velma’s heart broke a bit to know that such a smart student was kidnapped, if not possibly worse. She personally hoped that the little girl was somewhere safe and all right. 

The dining room held cherry wood furniture tarnished from lack of polish but nowhere in this room did cobwebs and spiders linger. Lace doilies attempted to hide any stains on the table as well as a large bowl filled with decorative, gold balls that looked like little suns poking out. A china cabinet infested with elegant tea sets and dinnerware stared at the trio as the glass reflected Mrs. Grace who hurriedly organized papers into files and laid them on the table. 

“Forgive the untidiness of my house, I only had enough time to clean this room. I’ve been busy these past months searching for my daughter, my Tabitha…”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Grace.”

“Would you like anything to eat? Drink? I can make us some tea if you’d like.”

“That would be lovely,” Daphne spoke with her gentle tones, making Mrs. Grace smile softly.

It appeared that she hadn’t had any company in a good while and that, perhaps, they were her first visitors in a long time. What the woman needed was a shoulder to cry on and someone willing to help her in her search. But why no one had found the child was the biggest question of them all and often, cases like that were not ignored by the police. A child was missing and that usually caused a great alarm. 

“Feel free to look through the files,” Mrs. Grace called from the kitchen as she prepared the kettle and chose peppermint tea. 

Something to soothe the tension of the situation, something to calm the eeriness of the case, something to provide any relief of some sort. Quickly looking through the closet, she found a box of cookies she had recently purchased from the store. Gripping the box in her hand she looked at the ginger snaps and while they weren’t necessarily the perfect cookie to pair with peppermint tea, she felt her heart die inside from the remembrance that Tabitha loved ginger snaps. 

Flipping through the files, Velma, Daphne, and Fred looked at numerous sheets of paper before them. News clippings from the day Tabitha disappeared, a map of the pizzeria with ideas as to where Tabitha vanished, police reports, papers scribbled with endless theories as to what could have happened, pictures of Tabitha at some sort of party within the pizzeria, photos of the pizzeria’s interior, and other documents spilled from the worn out folders. Each police report seemed to read the same: victim was last seen in bathroom at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza on June 25th. The year had been smudged by a massive, dried ink stain which made Velma’s brow furrow a bit in irritation. Laying the map before her, Velma flipped through the photos of the place on the inside. 

Her mind wracked for answers as to why the woman had taken so many pictures of the place. What was even stranger was that they were all pointed toward the ceiling if not the internal corners of the building. 

“Hey, what’s that?” 

Daphne asked, pointed to a reoccurring gleam that appeared in all the photos. Bringing the picture closer to her vision, Velma’s eyes widened with delight. 

“It looks like the security cameras! Good eye, Daphne!”

As Fred kissed Daphne on the cheek, Velma laid the pictures in line where the cameras appeared to be in the room. 

“I did that before, myself,” Mrs. Grace spoke as Velma intently stared at the evidence before her. Taking the tea cup, she sipped the tea without adding anything to her, her mind too focused on the cogs turning in her head.

“Did you line up the line of vision for the cameras?”

“Yes. I made a copy and hung the map on the wall and outlined them.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yes.”

“Before we do that though,” Fred interrupted. 

“May we ask you a few questions?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Mrs. Grace was more than willing to comply with the trio which made Fred smile some. She wouldn’t be like those they had encountered before who were vague in their answers or didn’t seem to care. She also wasn’t the type of person to chase them away, thankfully; especially with a rather dark and mysterious case like this, they needed all the evidence they could obtain. For a moment he considered that maybe it would be wise to interview the other parents whose children that had gone missing at this pizzeria, but for now he would mainly focus on Mrs. Grace.

“Can you tell us what happened?”

Sipping her tea, she watched the adults across the table from her. Her soul stirred, recalling the memory of that day. She remembered every detail as though it had only happened hours before and that she was reciting to the police for the umpteenth time. Holding the tea cup as gently as she could, she cleared her throat. 

“It was late June of this year. The 25th, I believe. My daughter, Tabitha, was at a friend’s birthday party at Freddy Fazbear’s. The girl and Tabitha were great friends and were enjoying themselves that day. There were so many children there….and I just figured…I figured she was with everyone…"

She paused, taking a deep breath and a quick sip of tea.

"The last I saw of her was Tabitha and her friend going to the bathroom, which was fine. I saw them come back. Then after that….she was just in that sea of children….I didn’t see her. No one saw her. “

Her tea cup shook a bit, but stopped suddenly. Mrs.Grace caught herself. Taking a deep breath, she could feel the memory taking its toll and hold on her, like some chained beast. She always blamed herself for that day, for thinking that Tabitha was a responsible ten year old, and that she could handle herself. All her friends were at the party, surely one of them would have told Mrs.Grace that something had happened. Even Tabitha’s best friend would have said something, she knew it. Best friends wouldn’t let each other be harmed or kidnapped and while she reassured herself of that notion, she knew that in the end the full blame fell on her weary shoulders. Parents were supposed to watch their children, a responsibility she had agreed upon and had done all her life. But at the age of ten, Mrs.Grace knew that Tabitha could use the ladies room without the assistance of her mother. Even then, she should have waited outside the bathroom for them and escorted her and her friend back to the room. 

Guilt was about as friendly as a cigarette and Mrs.Grace knew it all too well. It burst like a lit fuse the day Tabitha had gone missing and over time, it slithered and slunk throughout her body like smoke. There was no way of stopping it unless Tabitha was found. Over the months the emotion had grown from the inside out, dominating her house in a sea of dust and painful memories. Depression often found its way into the mix and from time to time, she would spit in its face and keep searching, analyzing her evidence for anything she might have missed. The hours she poured into the search showed beneath her eyes and while it didn’t bother her, she was often reminded of the disappearance every day she stared in the mirror. Instead of finding solace or Tabitha she would see those dark marks and immediately well up with tears. She never considered taking her own life or turning to some sick addiction, for she would always look at the pictures of Tabitha strewn about the house and remember why she had to keep living.

“The police….they searched but found nothing. They searched for her for a few months before eventually letting her case slip away. I swear them and the manager are in on it together. I swear they know exactly what happened and won’t tell me. Not only me but those who also lost their children at that place! Those bastards know exactly what had occurred, but won’t tell anyone! ‘We checked the security cameras and she’s there’ they said. Then where is she?! Where is my daughter?!”

Slamming her cup down on the table, Mrs. Grace’s eyes widened as she felt the broken porcelain penetrate her skin. Swiftly looking down, she noticed that the cup had shattered her in her hand which now trembled like a leaf. Drops of crimson broke through her pale, enraged skin as the shock gradually left her and once more she locked eyes with the adults before her. In that moment she felt like a child who had just broken a valuable object and was ready to receive punishment from her parents. Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes as a memory came charging from the back of her mind. Of how only months ago Tabitha accidentally broke a porcelain dolphin and wore the same expression as Mrs. Grace did now. She wished she hadn’t taken away her daughter’s TV time that day, but rather held her and whispered words of reassurance into her ears. Swallowing hard, Mrs. Grace felt her cheeks warm, preparing the tears to fall. Bowing her head, her shoulders rose like the tide and she harshly bit her lower lip to stop those irritating tears.

“Oh…..oh forgive me. I…I should show you that map. Come, follow me.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Find out as much as possible about Freddy Fazbear’s, search the area for any clues, do anything possible to obtain some information about this area. That was the mission at hand.

After fifteen pizzas, of course.

Nothing was better than pizza. Pizza was the ultimate cure-all, feel good food. You were going through a break up? Pizza was there. Movie marathon? Pizza was there. Late night dinner date? Pizza was there. To this day, Shaggy thanked the culinary Gods who invented the simplistic dish of bread, cheese, and tomato. Whoever threw random toppings onto the delicious disc would easily be accepted by his stomach. Hawaiian pizza, broccoli pizza, the man would eat it all with his lovable dog who now stole the last slice of pizza.

“Hey!”

Scooby laughed as he swallowed the last of the crust sticking out of his mouth. He smiled softly. He couldn’t be mad at him, not even if he tried. Scratching behind his ears, Shaggy paid for the pizzas and disappeared into the crowd of parents and children. 

Roaming away from the main room, Shaggy walked down the West Hall. No sooner he reached the halfway point of the hall it grew dead silent, as though he was walking into another world where nothing but checkered floors and posters of the performing animatronics were all that existed. The music could still be heard on the overhead system, but without anyone around, the atmosphere grew thick with creepiness. His spine shivered and his eyes began to dart, anticipating for something to pop up behind him; hopefully not one of those animatronics. 

A supply closet held nothing. No evidence, no clues, nothing about the disappearance of the children or anything relating to. Walking onward, he encountered an office to his left. He couldn’t see much of the inside due to the closed door. Knocking on one of the doors, he was met with silence and the hallway behind him seemed to grow quiet; the songs much more distant now. What would happen if he knocked again he dared not want to know, but given the mission at hand he had no other choice. Another knock, still nothing. The music seemed farther and slowly turning on his heel he expected to be faced with an animatronic or something far worse. 

From the corner of his eye he was met with a white sheet and wailing. Yelling, he jumped back slamming his back on the door behind him. Wincing at the sudden shock of pain, Shaggy couldn’t focus on that now. Quickly looking at the ominous white being before him, he watched as it grew closer to him. Hair on edge he found himself falling to the floor as the ivory being rose and rose, towering over him like a skyscraper before presenting its paws.

Blinking, Shaggy watched as the white cloth fell away and revealed a grinning Scooby Doo who laughed at his friend’s fear.

“Rot rou, Raggy,” he grinned and Shaggy smirked. 

“You sure did, Scoob!”

Pulling his friend into a hug, they laughed eliminating any tension and eeriness the hallway possessed. There was nothing to worry about. The stories Velma had told them from the Internet probably weren’t true. After all it was the Internet and it was probably nothing more than urban legends. Velma loved those and liked to chase them as well as Fred and Daphne. Shaggy had to admit they were fun, despite the fact that everything seemed to go wrong or escalate from eerie to mortifying within a matter of minutes. Sometimes it was something simple like a man in a mask. Other times it was the unexplainable, the things that couldn’t be deciphered or understood, and only taken for the idea that the supernatural and paranormal did exist. 

But with his best friend by his side, Shaggy knew nothing would go wrong. They had just eaten fifteen pizzas and the world was wonderful. So far nothing creepy had occurred despite the hallway’s eerie tension, although it was a mystery as to how that little girl did vanish. It was a pizzeria, who would kidnap children here? It was strange and rising to his feet, Shaggy figured it would be best to continue the mission that Fred had given him. There was no way a little girl could just up and vanish in a pizzeria without any trace and without anyone knowing about it.

There was nothing to be found in the West Hall. Shaggy had yet to wander down the East Hall and there, he hoped he would find something to aid to their case. The office wasn’t going to open by itself and so Shaggy concluded that whoever worked in there was probably patrolling the grounds of the pizzeria. They would be back sooner or later and he would try to converse with them. But for now, he would find no answers in the office. 

“Come on, Scoob. Let’s see if we can like find anything else.”

“Raggy, rhat’s rat?”

Looking up, Shaggy was met with a purple rabbit wearing a red bow tie standing at the end of the hallway.

He had recognized the animatronic, but now staring at it, it seemed possessed. Like a demon had taken over and was working the controls from within. The light emanating from the main room behind the animatronic made its shadow crawl on the floor and its eyes glow. Only now of all times did the West Hall’s lights begin to flicker. They did say the place was on the brink of shutting down, so blinking lights were to be expected. But now was probably not the best them to flicker, adding a more ominous appearance to the purple rabbit.

“Zoinks!”

In its hand held a plastic guitar and it did nothing more than stare, registering Shaggy as a target. The music was completely gone now. Any sound that was made was from Scooby Doo’s chattering teeth as he jumped into Shaggy’s arms and Shaggy’s heart pounding like a hammer. The only other noise that could be heard was raspy breathing, like someone crying and trying to speak at the same time. But that noise, that very strange noise came from nothing but the purple rabbit. In a way it almost sounded inhumane which made the man’s skin turn to a ghostly hue as he slowly backed away, deeper into the hallway. 

Posters of the purple rabbit on the wall seemed to turn and look at him, heightening the fear clouding in his head. His heart was a hummingbird, beating without any intention of stopping and he wondered if it would explode from the inside out. He would die of fear from of all things, a purple rabbit. Shaggy watched as he swore the animatronic moved. One foot into the hallway. He had nothing to defend himself with and what would he defend himself with. An animatronic was far stronger than him and he knew that within one punch it could easily eliminate him. 

Raspy breathing echoed into the hallway, dominating any other sounds Shaggy might have heard like children’s laughter or utensils from the kitchen not too far away from him and Scooby. Even his own heartbeat seemed to fall silent to this thing’s breathing he swore he saw a single strip of something red tumble forth from Bonnie’s jaw. Eyes widening in terror, he hoped that wasn’t blood and yet that distinct coppery scent charged down the hall and made his heart stop. What was this thing, this robot, this mechanical beast, and why was it dripping blood? Maybe it ate the children and that’s why everything seemed so silent and suddenly blood scented. Maybe this was all just a dark, dark nightmare and at any minute Shaggy would awake with Scooby by his side in the back of the Mystery Machine or a nice hotel. Maybe Velma was right and there was more to this place. Or maybe it was just - 

“Bonnie, what are you doing?”

The animatronic’s head swiftly turned to meet an associate.

“Come on, let’s get you backstage. Your servos is acting up again.”

Shaggy’s heart remembered to beat and with one lone beat his eyes shrunk a bit. Breathing hard, he watched as the purple rabbit was led away from the end of the hall by a worker. The lights still flickered, but not as rapidly as Scooby leapt from his friend’s arms. 

“Scoob?”

“Reah, Raggy?”

“I-I think there’s like more to this place. I don’t know what, but like, it sure is creepy.”


	3. Dark Water

Shaggy was terrified to roam down the East Hall with the notion that that purple rabbit would rear its head once more. Or worse the rabbit would be joined by the bear and the chick and gang up on him and possibly eat him or kill him and Scooby. The very idea made his spine shiver with terror. He didn’t want to die yet, he hadn’t tasted every single thing he wanted in life like foreign dishes and that ice cream that they sent into space with astronauts. The man literally had a bucket list of food he wanted to try and he wasn’t ready to abandon it just yet. He knew Scooby Doo would be there by his side, devouring all the different foods his mouth had not yet savored and he would enjoy those moments. He wasn’t ready to let some animatronics end his foodie life and he would do his best to not be scared of them. 

However, this would be hard to execute. Uncontrollable animatronics who enjoyed eating people were something to be scared of. Shaggy swallowed his fear hard like the last bit of a jaw breaker. His shoes resounded through the hallway, their sound mingling with the singing animatronics booming from the overhead speaker. The only good thing about the East Hall was that the kitchen was nearby. Pepperoni danced down the hall as cheese melted through the cracks of the pizzeria and relieved the man slightly. Pizza was his friend and he would not deny that friendship. With pizza and Scooby Doo by his side, the man could conquer the world if he so desired, but he was here to do nothing more than obtain information about Freddy Fazbear’s.

At the end of the hall rested the closed side of the office and a health and safety sign. He had seen many signs like these scattered throughout the restaurant, but this one was different. This one had faded news paper clippings clinging to the sign, each one bearing a mild report on missing children. Each one nearly read the same, but there were no stories of the children ever being found. Shaggy’s spine crawled at the idea and that maybe the animatronics did have something to do with it. 

“Look Scoob, Velma wasn’t kidding!”

Five children had disappeared within the late month of June. Fred, Velma, and Daphne had gone to interview the mother of one of the missing children. That seemed like hours ago. Shaggy knew that the pizzeria would close soon and he would be stranded with those animatronics. Why that purple rabbit bled from the mouth and groaned inhumanely was what terrified him the most. He didn’t want to know why and figured it would be better to run away from the place no sooner his friends returned. He wondered though if he was just imagining that or if the associates had heard what he did. If they did then they were up to something. No one could ignore that awful sound that now, when he thought about it, made him wonder if that was the sound of-

“Shaggy, there you are!”

Fred snapped him to his senses and looking over to his friends, a relieved smile appeared on his face. 

“Like how did it go?”

“The interview went well,” Velma started as she neared Shaggy, scratching Scooby behind the ears. 

Whipping out her phone, Velma brought up a picture she had taken at Amy Grace’s house. It was a photograph of the restaurant layout adorned with crimson strings where the cameras were located. Each thread represented the camera’s vision. Beneath the strings were soft, blue shaded areas which served as how far the camera could possibly see. Most of the area in the restaurant seemed to be covered by the camera’s visibility, except for a distant space that led to the backstage area. 

“Based on the cameras and the layout of the restaurant, we were able to determine that the children could have been taken hostage backstage. She hasn’t been back there and as far as anyone knows, it’s only used for repairing the animatronics.”

The idea that had burst into Shaggy’s head was like a slaughtering supernova that made his flesh turn pale and his eyes widen. It sounded like something out of a horror movie. Missing children being led into the backstage area where animatronics were repaired. It was someplace secret, someplace no one had really expected. What could have happened in there made his heart stop beating for a few moments. The purple rabbit gasping for air like a ghost in the machine while blood trickled from its lower jaw. What if that was a child?

“S-Scoob and I saw one of the animatronics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! It was that purple rabbit!”

Scooby stood on his hind legs, attempting to impersonate the purple rabbit.

“Like it stood at the end of the West Hall! It was like breathing weird and there was blood dripping from its mouth!”

“Blood dripping from its mouth?” Daphne asked, horror flooding her frame.

“Yeah!” 

The same idea seemed to burst inside their minds one by one. Children in the machines. Eyes widening, Velma nearly dropped her phone in shock. Daphne’s hand clung to Fred’s, her fingers trembling with horror. They had encountered dark waters before, but now they found themselves being submerged in a dark, fathomless sea of mystery and possible murder. Questions arose in their minds like kelp beds, each one more matted than the last. It would make sense, but it would have been too obvious. People have caught on to that idea based on the urban legends and it would have been painfully clear to the police once they put everything together. The idea that their disappearance hadn’t been so easily solved based on this thought was rather alarming and made them wonder if there was more to this case. 

There was also the factor that it could have been special effects blood. There was always that possibility and to turn away from the mere terror that dead children rested in the animatronics, they believed that the blood was fake. Their beliefs would be changed once they were close enough to see the animatronics or smell that distinct scent. They could try to get close to them now before an associate would separate them. It would be better, to have someone by their side in case something should go wrong. The workers would know how to deal with them.

“And it kept coming toward me and Scoob, but like a worker stopped it. And I also found like an office, but it’s locked. There’s no one in there from what I can tell.”

“Let’s….let’s, figure out a plan gang,” Fred started, trying to shake the notion of dead children in the suits. 

“You there!”

“Me?”

A short, stout man in a suit emerged from the office, holding a dark uniform in his thick hands. His name tag read ‘Carl’ but his face read desperation. Worried wrinkles nestled themselves into his chubby face, his glasses hiding his eyes. The sound of the animatronics’ song spilled from his office, screens flashing softly and creating a glow from the room. Pizza stains littered his tie and patches of his suit as he hurriedly tried to rub them out with a napkin. Tossing it aside, he focused on the slender man in the green shirt before him.

“Yes, you! What are you doing tonight?”

“Well, my friends and I were like going to –“

“Nonsense! You’re my new security guard. Lose the pooch.”

“Rey!”

“But wait, what-“

“There’s recordings in the booth in the back. It’ll explain everything. Here’s your uniform. Shift starts in about three hours. ”

“Wait!”

Carl, the manager, ignored Shaggy and hurriedly raced to the dining area. Their last guy was all right, but now they needed someone who couldn’t be fired like that Mike Schmidt. Staring at the security uniform ins his hands, Shaggy felt his heart sink. He found himself in the darkest trench of water with this mystery as he swallowed hard. Alone in a pizzeria with no pizza and animatronics roaming through the halls as those myths foretold. It was already a nightmare without pizza, but the living animatronics made it worse. So far the stories had been right about the missing children, what if they were right about the animatronics that came alive at night? Bonnie herself even appeared to act on her own accord not too long ago with Shaggy. It would be incredible if she remembered his face, but then again he didn’t know the working mechanisms of the animatronics. The associate had mentioned something about servos acting up which left Shaggy rather confused as to what they meant.

A clever smile curled on Fred’s face.

“Velma, didn’t you say the animatronics roamed around on their own at night?”

“Yep.”

“And that no one other than the associates were allowed backstage?”

“Yep.”

“Gang, for now let’s try to get a look at the animatronics up close. Tonight, we’ll not only investigate them but the backstage areas as well.”

It would be too suspicious for them to enter backstage now. It wouldn’t have worked anyway because Shaggy would officially start in his shift in three hours. Had he entered back there now the manager might kick him out or one of the other associates. Shaggy examined the uniform in his hands. Whoever had worn this last was probably not so lucky, questioning that person’s fate. He hadn’t heard of Mike Schmidt or how he was fired for tampering with the servos. No one had. There were no blood marks or pizza stains on the uniform which reassured him some, but still the idea of being alone at night with those animatronics raked his spine with shivers. Nuzzing his leg, he looked past the uniform and down at Scooby Doo. Smirking softly, he knew Carl said to lose the pooch, but there was no way that would happen. Besides, Carl probably wouldn’t be here covering the night shift. It would just be him and his dog. He was sure his friends wouldn’t abandon him so hastily and often check in on him while they were exploring the pizzeria. 

“Oh wait, I also found these just like hanging on the safety sign.”

Daphne took the newspaper clippings from Shaggy and examined them with Fred and Velma. Velma smirked softly.

“These were the newspaper clippings Amy had. Only these are much more faded.”

“Probably because they didn’t keep them laminated like she did.”

“But don’t you think they would?” Daphne asked, curiosity intriguing her as she tried to read some of the clippings. 

“It would keep people up to date or at least notify them about what happened here-“

“Which would easily drive business away, but the place is already going downhill,” Velma spoke as she finished Fred’s thought. Unable to make out the reports, it didn’t matter to her; knowing the details from Amy’s house and what she had saved from the past newspapers based on this mystery.

“So then, why would they fight to keep it open?” 

“It’s a business,” Fred started. 

“Why wouldn’t you fight to keep it open?”

“I’m surprised no one protested,” Velma remarked as she thought about the situation even further.

“It’s a small town. Surely the protest would spread. If the stories of this place had spread to the Internet, then why haven’t protests?”

“Maybe like they just trusted the police to find their kids.”

This mystery seemed to give way to an ocean full of unanswered questions. There was definitely more than met the eye to this situation and it would be up to them to discover the full story behind Freddy Fazbear’s.


	4. Closer

Getting close to the animatronics was about as easy as walking on coals. They couldn’t stand close to them like the workers and at best they were kept about ten feet away from them. But as they watched Freddy sing and Chica dance, they noticed something rather strange. The children were perfectly content with the robotic beings and vice versa. In no means were they scared of them or distant from them and the animatronics were more than welcoming to them. They seemed to play with them and interact with them more than the adults, who were presented with no activity whatsoever. Instead they were treated with eerie, unshakeable stares as though their servos had frozen and they could do nothing but watch them with unmoving eyes. No interaction was made between any of the gang and the animatronics other than those cold, unnerving stares which caused Daphne at one point to hide behind Fred. Velma watched with bated breath, biting her lower lip at the animatronics who stared at them, as though they were registering targets. It wasn’t just them who received this strange stare, but parents as well. The mothers and fathers didn’t seem to take notice though, they were too busy tending to their children and conversing with each other. Some felt the stares of the animatronics and proceeded to ignore them by way of phone or merely looking away, as though they had committed a crime and refused to confess. The workers though, most of which were a combination of teenagers and adults, received mixed reactions. Teenagers were treated like children and had more of the upper hand, giving demands to the animatronics who so eagerly complied. Adults on the other hand were treated the same way as Mystery Inc and the parents. When they were given orders, they slowly responded, like grudging teenagers who were forced into doing something against their will.

They still couldn’t look into or get into backstage. It appeared to be one of the most heavily guarded places the pizzeria had to offer next to the kitchen. It was strange, but then again, backstage was supposedly the repair room. People could run in there and get hurt with the different tools and parts back there. It would only make sense for that place to be well guarded. 

At times they saw Carl, who was welcomed into the room by the cold stares of parents and animatronics. He would hurriedly rush through the room, avoiding eye contact and pretending to be busy or having to take care of something urgent. He shoved his cell phone against his ear as though he was in an “important conversation” when really there was no one on the other line. At one point Carl couldn’t be found in the office or anywhere on the premise, as though he had turned into a ghost and vanished. Trying to track him down and or chase him was ridiculous and knowing this, the gang knew they would have to figure things out for themselves. They had done this before, so it was nothing new, but it was rather irritating to know that the one person who could potentially have all the answers refused to cooperate with them.

“Gang, I have a plan.”

Fred spoke, the wheels spinning in his head. Why Carl was steering clear of Mystery Inc. (as well as anyone else for that matter), Fred didn’t know and found it rather odd. A man avoiding questions about his own business, especially one on the brink of extinction was strange. Maybe he had grown tired of past interviews of disappearing children, of detectives trying to figure out where the kids went to, of police men searching the premises for some sort of sign, and of finding nothing for an answer. But Carl had to know something a case like this wouldn’t be ignored, especially the manager of where everything had occurred. 

If worse came to worse, Shaggy would ask questions before the shift. He would be in the office with nowhere to run and the man couldn’t run, he had to give Shaggy the keys. He wouldn’t just leave them there, besides he had to gather Shaggy’s information for payment. There was no way he would explain anything other than what the duties of the night were, but it made Fred wonder if Carl would present the topic of the free roaming animatronics. He wouldn’t just leave Shaggy uninformed, it would be unprofessional. Then again, the man did literally hire Shaggy out of the blue without a proper interview, and why he couldn’t have selected one of the associates was an even stranger notion. It was possible the workers knew of what had happened here and didn’t dare to volunteer for the night shift, knowing the stories and the nature of the animatronics. Based on this, Carl would naturally seek out a stranger to fill the job. Someone unsuspecting of the pizzeria’s stories and myths. 

“Shaggy, you’re working the night shift. I think I remember seeing a back door by the kitchen on that map Mrs. Grace had. Carl will probably leave you with the keys to the place. When he does, wait for him to leave, meet us at the back door, and let us in.”

Shaggy nodded, swallowing hard. His experience with Bonnie combined with the urban legends made the man already terrified of the night to come. Another thought surfaced, the idea of children in the machines. What if it was actually true, as morbid and horrifying as it sounded. That would mean ghosts would be in the animatronics as well or outside of them, roaming the pizzeria. He could feel his spine shiver with terror, unprepared for the long hours ahead of him. At least he would be safe with the doors constantly closed.

He couldn’t back away from this situation, knowing they had to complete their goal at hand. They already had treaded the shallow end of this mystery, now it was time for the full submerge. It was too late to swim back shore and ride away into the sunset within the comfort of the Mystery Machine. Gripping the uniform in his hands, Shaggy understood what he had to do and nodded causing Fred to smirk.

“When Shaggy lets us in, we’ll set off for backstage. Shaggy, if you find anything in the office, take pictures and let us know.”

With time to spare, the gang rented a room for a week down the road. It was a quaint, homey little place that boasted the comforts “only Brigton could offer” (or so the front desk associate proudly proclaimed). They had split their rooms so Daphne and Fred would take the room just across the hall from Shaggy, Velma, and Scooby. Having known the man since day one in Coolsville, she didn’t mind sharing a room with him. He felt the same, knowing that he was comfortable in rooming with her. Come to think of it, it had been a while since he roomed with Velma. The last time he roomed with anyone, it was Fred and Scooby and that was only because Fred wasn’t dating Daphne at the time.

Daphne and Fred had only started dating when Fred finally decided that after years of knowing the purple loving woman it was time to make a move. He had known her favorite fashion designer, her passions, her dreams, her favorite type of food, her insecurities, her everything. He could have written a book on her if he wanted and he also knew that he was better than any guy she had dated in the past. She was a bold woman, confident in her abilities and intelligent with an extensive knowledge of how to use make up for more than one purpose of adding to beauty, as well as the latest in the fashion world. Fred had only asked her a few months ago to dinner at a new Japanese fusion place that had opened up not too far from their last venture. At first she found it rather strange that he would ask her and only her to this nice dinner, but it suddenly clicked with her. At dinner they gelled well like mashed potatoes and turkey, conversing and acting as if they were already in a relationship. Afterwards, he led her down a street illuminated with fairy lights and adorned with boutiques that made her heart pound. It was at a café he told her how he felt and she immediately reciprocated the feelings with her own confession and a smile.

Everyone was happy for them. That Fred had finally made a move towards the woman he so desired after all these years of friendships and mysteries. The two belonged together like salt and pepper, steak and fries, salad and smoothie. They were perfect for each other.

As Shaggy reclined on the hotel bed, he considered ordering room delivery because fifteen pizzas wasn’t enough and he was sure Velma was probably hungry at this point. Looking over, he watched her fiddling with her phone and murmuring to herself. She always did this when she was deep in thought and she began to scribble something, chewing the pen between her teeth in contemplation. Most people found that habit rather gross, but for some reason or another, Shaggy thought it was cute when she did it. She was exercising her brain, flexing her mind as she always did, and it made him question what exactly was roaming through her head. With this new case at hand, there were tons of possibilities to be explored, many clues to be evaluated, and ideas to be considered. He had a few ideas of his own, some he dared not venture into because of their horrific notion, but he knew he would have to face them sooner or later. 

Grabbing the menu, the sound of paper brushing on wood caused Velma’s head to perk upward. Looking over, she saw Shaggy browsing the room service menu and she smiled to herself. The man had a stomach as big as his heart and it made her giggle at times, wondering how much he could consume before entering a food coma. She remembered the one time he managed to wipe out at least half of a buffet and yet somehow still retain his lanky, skinny frame. Even to this day, he still looked as thin as a promise and just as attractive as he did many moons ago. 

Her mother always wanted her to marry a diplomat. Someone who shared Velma’s logic, thoughts, theories, and education. By now her mother had probably taken the hint that her daughter had chosen not to marry, but rather develop herself in a fully fledged career before doing anything as strenuously romantic as a relationship or marriage. At first, Velma agreed to the idea of wedding a knowledgeable man who knew what the God particle was and how the most advance telescope functioned and how various bacteria affected everything. But overtime the idea began to fade with most of the men she encountered turning out to be cocky ego feeding know-it-alls, sexists, and overly confident individuals.  
Maybe it was time to try someone who didn’t bear what her mother desired, but rather what Velma wanted. Velma had been an open minded woman most of her life and allowed only a select few of men enter a relationship with her. While her relationships had failed, she always had a soft spot for the man with the great dane by his side. Though she would never confess it, worried that a relationship with Shaggy would fail, and their friendship would ultimately collapse, Velma did harbor a crush for the man. He was a complete gentleman who could really clean up, had an open, free spirited mind, would fight for his woman and friends, was caring, and sweet. He was a good catch actually and was rather surprised that woman weren’t drawn to him based on these traits as well as his friendly personality. Then again, most women sneered at him when he was chowing down as though he had never tasted food before. It was a shame, they were missing out. 

“Hey Velms,” even when he said her name or her nickname at times she couldn’t help but to smile, much like she did now.

“Like you wanna get something?”

“Sure, do they have any subs?”

“Yeah.”

Within moments the two found themselves separated by a table of food in their room. Shaggy paid for it all as Velma smiled softly, thanking him. Taking her chicken sub from the cart, she was surprised that the man had somehow managed to order even more food than what he consumed earlier. Three different hoagies, a few appetizers that he split with Velma, a plate of nachos and fries that he also split with Velma, two racks of ribs, four cheeseburgers, four paninis, two calzones, and a chocolate cream cake. Watching the man and his dog chow down, she was surprised that the man hadn’t exploded yet from everything he ate today. 

As she ate her mind began to think more about the case at hand and jotting notes down on a piece of paper, she attempted to piece everything together. Granted, she only had so much information based on what the Internet told her and what Mrs.Grace had shown her. Velma was a highly intelligent woman, capable of putting two and two together, but some ideas seemed completely incredulous. Shoving children in animatronics, was that even possible? There had to be thousands and thousands of wires in there as well as a steel skeleton to bind it all together. The very idea made her sick, dropping her sandwich as Shaggy thankfully caught it, returning it to its plate.

“Like you okay, Velms?”

“Yeah,” Velma took a deep breath.

“Sorry, just thinking about the case. It’s definitely not like something we’ve encountered before.”

“How do you mean?” 

Velma had shown him and Scooby everything they had seen at Mrs. Grace’s house. She also informed the duo of everything that the childless mother had told them. Velma bit her lip at one point, remembering the anger that caused the woman to smash her teacup over something that should have been solved months ago. While she couldn’t relate to the feeling, at best Velma felt sympathy for her. Losing a child who was possibly dead was a terrifying ordeal which made her heart pang softly in pain for the woman whose hope rested on their shoulders. 

“Wow…,” Shaggy spoke, his stunned tones causing Velma to look up from her information.

The desire to eat fled him which shocked even her and made her question if she really should have brought up the subject during their dinner. Suddenly feeling rather guilty about this, she quickly put the information away. There wasn’t much food left, but that wasn’t the point. Her mind mentally cursed her for discussing such horrific ideas of what possibly happened to the children as well as Mrs. Grace’s breakdown. It wouldn’t surprise Velma or Shaggy if some of her own emotions had slipped into the briefing of what took place at Mrs. Grace’s house. Velma adored children and whenever something terrible had happened to them, it struck her heart with a slight pain. Bowing her head, she was surprised to see that from the corner of her eye Shaggy was slipping two pieces of cake onto her plate. Looking up, her apologetic glance was met with those kind, chocolate brown eyes that made her heart stop.

“Cake makes everything better,” his voice spoke and those shocked mortified notes were gone. In their place were gentle tones that made Velma’s lips slightly curl into a small smile.

“Thanks,” for a moment they didn’t break eye contact and in that minute, Velma had contemplated the soft spot she had felt many times before for Shaggy. 

Maybe it was time to act upon that little fluttery feeling she had experienced the many times before when he called her name or hugged her. Maybe she should gravitate towards that feeling more, like an apple to the Earth. Yet fear restrained her, not wanting to ruin the perfectly good friendship she had developed with Shaggy over the years. Velma had treasured that friendship, as well as her friendships with Fred, Daphne, and Scooby, like irreplaceable dubloons. But never did she feel that soft spot for anyone else in the group other than Shaggy. The relationship could be wonderful though. He was an intelligent person and she could share everything with him, knowing how well he listened to her. And maybe, they would go on picnics together and she would cook for him. The woman did have a secret love of cooking and-

The belch of Scooby Doo broke their eye contact as the canine laughed and excused himself. 

All thoughts of a future relationship with the man before her fell to the wayside as she blushed. 

Velma hurriedly returned to eating her sandwich and whatever food she shared with Shaggy. Shaggy reached for a fistful of nachos before looking at Velma in a way he had rarely done before. That pink blush against the orange sweater made her cheeks brighter than what they already were. He had never noticed that before and it made him smile in a way that he rarely done when she wasn’t looking. He swore he felt his heart pound in a way he hadn’t felt in a while for the girl across the table. A certain type of warmth beat from his heart and began to spread, filling his body like Boston cream in a doughnut. It was a feeling he sometimes experienced when looking at her and it was possibly the next best thing to food in his eyes. Feeling the melting cheese in his hand, he shoved the contents into his mouth.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the time arrived for the shift to begin, Shaggy and Scooby walked the West Hall to the office. The pizzeria was as empty and lifeless as a corpse. Fresh table cloths replaced pizza stained linen, the lack of children and parents made this place appear as though it was already permanently closed. Silence soaked the environment as an underlying tension slowly began to emerge, like an awakening demon. 

Approaching the West Hall, Shaggy swore the eyes of posters followed him, sending chills throughout his body. His shoes clacked on the tiles, the only sound within the pizzeria until the thunderous noise of heavy footsteps broke his concentration. Swiftly turning around, he was met with flickering lights that illuminated any major detail from the main party room. Scooby also turned around, growling and positioning his body in an attack stance in case worse should come to worse. The back room was still vacant and it would have been easy to slip right in, but Shaggy had a duty to attend to. Besides, Carl was probably in the office waiting for him or so Shaggy hoped. 

The hall behind them seemed to close around them, lights extinguishing one by one, starting from the front and working its way back. The stage was drowned in shadows and those shadows seethed and stretched as each bulb went out. They seemed to be gaining on them, like an army of black blind bulls charging through the building. The heavy footsteps were gone and in their place was the loud slamming of a door and a silhouette by the front door. It was a stout shape which hurriedly fumbled with the lock and took off no sooner the door was firmly secured. Scooby growled lowly, knowing who that shadow belonged to.

Carl, the bastard locked up and left without so much saying a word to Shaggy. What kind of a professional was he, no one seemed to know and it grinded Shaggy’s gears, making him slightly dislike the man more than what he had originally. The manager had thrown his new worker to the wolves without so much as a ‘welcome’ or ‘thank you for doing this’ or at least warning him of the night to come despite the fact that there were supposedly recordings detailing his job.

As he reached the office, Shaggy swore he heard a low, childish groan. It was distant, but the very sound raked his spine. A child wouldn’t be in here at this time of night, it would make no sense. It was probably one of the old pipes or wires fraying, the pizzeria did have complaints about it. Old rusty pipes would definitely be an issue or so Shaggy told himself. What terrified him though was that groan sounded too childish to be just a pipe issue. It sounded so…..human and for a moment, he really did wonder if there was a child left here. Parents sometimes accidentally left their children in places and here wouldn’t be an exception. He would have to go check everywhere for the child. 

Turning on his heel once more, his eyes widened to see the head of a certain purple rabbit poking out from backstage. From its jaw, that childish, raspy groan was heard once more and Shaggy’s skin paled. How could an animatronic sound so human and why, why was it making that sound?! He had heard that groaning come from Bonnie before, but the dark made things a thousand times scarier as he had learned over the years. Swallowing hard, he knew he wasn’t seeing things. Maybe they forgot to deactivate Bonnie before the night began. That could happen, right? But Shaggy wasn’t willing to take that chance as he knew he had to find some way to repel the animatronic.

“ZOINKS! COME ON, SCOOB!”

Rushing into the office, the two attempted to find a way to close the doors. The doors dropped from the office’s sides, meaning there had to be a button or some sort of switch to activate them. Shaggy could hear those heavy footsteps once more and silently swore the purple rabbit had it out for him, probably from earlier even though he did nothing but stare. Flipping through the paperwork, most of it fell off the desk as well as the keys to the establishment. That didn’t matter now as his eyes darted about, his heart pounding wildly. The myths were true, the animatronics did roam around at night when no one was around. His shift hadn’t even officially started yet and already Bonnie was poking out of the backstage, searching for anyone who happened to be around. 

To his relief, he and Scooby Doo found panels on the side of the doorways. Slamming the top buttons, Shaggy swore he heard Bonnie tear through the hallway. In the darkness he saw the faint glow of something circular, two miniature maroon moons, two glowing orbs of disaster as the doors closed with a loud slam. Bonnie reeled from the sudden sound, slowly peering into the office. Shaggy’s eyes never left the animatronic as he swallowed hard, shaking with fright. In a sick way he swore he saw the animatronic grin, as he stepped away from the door, his heart shaking in his chest like a quivering leaf. 

The faint glow of the rabbit’s eyes shed some light down on his jaw, shedding light on the dried bloodstain from before. Scooby growled, watching the animatronic as it stared at Shaggy for a few moments before sulking away into the darkness of the pizzeria. The dog ceased his growl as Shaggy’s shoulders dropped in temporary relief and he allowed himself to fall into a chair. A fan threw cold air on him, to remind him that this was only the beginning of the night to come.


	5. Starting the First Night

A red ringing phone jolted Shaggy out of his temporary calm, causing his hair to rise. His body already shaken with fright from Bonnie’s reappearance, the phone made his nerves tremble catching him off guard. Shaky fingers stretched for the phone, needing to hear a voice of some reassurance or at least some instruction on how to handle the night to come. Clearing his throat, he attempted to erase his mind of any frightening experiences the night had to offer and only focus on the speaker. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, hello?” That wasn’t Carl’s voice. That wasn’t any voice that he knew or recognized. 

“Who is thi-“

“Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night.”

So this was what Carl mentioned about the recording; it was supposedly an instruction guide on how to survive the night. Maybe it would provide some helpful hints to solving this case and whipping out his phone, Shaggy pressed the record button. Pressing the phone against the speaker half, he hoped this would be something that the gang would be interested in. Shoulders settling with relaxation, relief came to him upon listening to the voice. It was the voice of a stranger, but that stranger probably knew more than he did about this pizzeria. This mystery man would act as his trainer at Fazbear’s, he would probably be more a trainer than Carl. As long as Shaggy received some guidance, he would be all right until the animatronics showed up. From there, well, he hoped that he would be able to defend himself somehow.

The stranger went over the details of how the Fazbear’s night shift worked and how those animatronics were special, but lethal. They did come alive at night due to their free roaming mode that was activated when their servos locked up if they were turned off for too long. This confirmation made Shaggy’s body pale terribly, terrified in knowing that the myths were true. He had experienced the legend only seconds ago when that terrible, purple rabbit tore down the hall wanting his head. He had to last until 6 am with these murder machines who – wait a minute, what was that about the Bite of 87? Someone living without their temporal lobe? Velma had mentioned the Bite of 87, only briefly but didn’t go into full details. His own idea of animatronics eating children made him cringe once more and that the Bite of 87 possibly had something to do with that idea. Maybe someone managed to escape, while only losing a temporal lobe. Maybe it was a kid that received such injury when the animatronic was trying to eat them. It was lucky that person escaped, but having to lose a major function of their brain to an animatronic was far more horrific. Eyes widening, he swallowed hard, the fear sliding down his throat like an oyster, sending chills down his spine and paralyzing his heart. 

“Scoob…like…you think one of them did that?”

The mere idea caused the canine’s teeth to shatter in fright as he jumped into his friend’s arms, fearful of that idea being true. Shaggy couldn’t blame him and knew he would probably be doing the same thing if he wasn’t sitting down. Fear tightened his shoulders and frame as the mystery man’s voice continued to speak of the animatronics, each word making Shaggy’s mind racing with all the horrible things those machines could do. By now his heart was unfrozen from fright and was pounding as fast as a train on tracks, traveling at full speed to some unknown destination filled with darkness and uncertainty. Relief found him for a second when the voice mentioned the word ‘safety’. His heart stopped thrumming for one moment, hoping that the next words were instructions on how to fend off the animatronics and protect himself. 

“They’ll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that’s against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, they’ll probably try to…forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now that wouldn’t be so bad if the suits weren’t filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort….and death. ”

As the voice spoke, he fumbled into nervous laughter and constant reassurance that Shaggy would be safe. Though the listening skinny man had already believed otherwise. From what he could discern there was no method to physically fend off the machines other than the doors, based on what he just discovered with his encounter with Bonnie. Doors could only keep out so much, despite how sturdy they appeared. But what if he wasn’t quick enough or didn’t see the animatronic? He would then suffer the fate as the other children possibly endured and that shook his bones.

Ideas sparked in Shaggy’s head of mechanical maws parting and revealing bloodied teeth as robotic fingers gripped his sides. In his mind he stared into the animatronic mouth and there he would find the ultimate confirmation of children in the machines, skin trapped in the crossbeams, organs mangled in the wires, skeletons broken by the cogs, and joining them as the robot would attempt to stuff him inside. That distinct death scent would rise up, like every single monster he had ever encountered in reality and his nightmares and it would be enough to overwhelm him, much like the fear that had been gradually building since the start of this case. With his imagination running terribly wild he swore the office began to spin and that a shadow passed before the side window of the office. His fear was powerfully growing, dominating him and stealing his control with those ungodly horrific images in his head. Gripping the red phone and his cell, he tried to keep a firm grasp. Phone Guy’s anxious chuckle still emerged from the phone as he roughly grasped the devices, trying to hold onto the hazy world spinning around him. Shaggy’s body slumped into the chair, as though his spine forgot how to be straight as his head felt too heavy for his frame. Scooby looked at his friend as though he was slowly turning into a ghost and there was no way to stop the process.

“Raggy? Raggy!”

“Y-yeah, they don’t tell you these things when you sign up.” 

Phone Guy spoke nervously, as though he had just spoke a secret he wasn’t supposed to. The recording continued as Shaggy’s body seemed to lose weight within that moment as he felt light, as though someone drained him of every last shred of energy. Regardless, he tried to listen to Phone Guy’s voice, he needed to hear or at least try to hear everything the voice on the other line said in order to survive. However, his brain began to fail him as any control he might have had over himself easily slithered away like the tide.

The phones slipped from Shaggy’s hands as they hit the floor with a rather loud thud. His fingers grew weak, much like the rest of his body which had now paled greatly due to the thoughts still churning in his head. He couldn’t shake himself of those terrible, terrible thoughts, even as the world crashed and behind his eyes he was met with unfeeling darkness. 

“Raggy?!”

The idea of dead children in the machine had sickened him, but now that he really thought about it combined with Phone Guy’s words, the fear seemed to multiply tenfold within his lithe uniformed frame. It was an extreme rarity to faint out of fright and although he had encountered monsters and aliens and ghouls many days before, sometimes, it was too much for him. Much like now.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
It was in that darkness that Shaggy saw the images he feared so much. Those animatronics leaping at him and knowing he would have to come to sooner or later and contend with them throughout the night was something he wasn’t looking forward to, but it was a job and a job had to be done. He had only seen a few of the animatronics, but Velma had spoken of another one named Foxy and a rumored one entitled Golden Freddy. He wasn’t sure what either one of them looked like, nor was he excited to find out. Through the snapping jaws that splashed with blood and what appeared to be mucus (or melted mozzarella cheese, he couldn’t tell) he saw something in the distance. Something he hadn’t seen before and if he did, it was extremely rare. Past the glowing eyes and towering animatronics that snarled in his skull he saw something orange. But it wasn’t just any old orange, it was an orange sweater followed by the unfurling of a crimson skirt. 

He couldn’t stop looking at her when they were in the hotel room. They had locked eyes and in that moment he swore he felt his universe implode on itself. It was that feeling he had felt for her many times before whenever he would smile at her when she was looking away. The woman was as smart as Einstein he swore, but never did she notice someone stealing glances at her while she was thinking or deducing or just having fun. 

His mind enforced those snapping murder machines as they growled and groaned in tones that he would never imagine emerge from those mouths. Those moans of sadness and sorrow, as though someone had stolen something precious from them that they couldn’t retrieve. Those growls, so feral, like a wild wolf’s that refused to be tamed. They droned in his head, matching tunes with his quickening heartbeat, and he watched them grow like giants over this lithe, shrinking frame. Watching them with his wide eyes while his body trembled and peering through the tiny gaps they created, he still saw her. The little brunette with the orange sweater fading more and more into the darkest reaches of his brain. The more she walked the more he wondered if she ever thought about him in the way he thought of her from time to time. She did blush over his cake giving act so that had to mean something and how her eyes never left him, yes, that had to mean something. There had to be something to it. Though what he could only question as a crush, but that couldn’t be it, she often went after the diplomats and intellectuals and Shaggy was far from them. The man has some brains in his skull, but nothing when it came to science and space and species. Though he very well did understand things easily and whenever Velma spouted her theories and scientific language, he paid full attention to her without anything distracting him. 

Unless there was food in front of him, then the man could very well multitask. 

She stopped through the miniature gaps and turned, his mind slowing everything down. Even the monsters’ lunges seemed to lag as they gradually seemed to fall onto him, the gaps tightening. When she finally turned he saw her smile and felt his cheeks grow warm, as they had done many a time before whenever he felt that fluttery feeling in his heart. It was strange, but he knew too well what it was. She flashed her teeth and the monsters came tumbling down, time returning to normal as he heard himself scream, replacing his warmed heart with a weight of terror lodged in his chest.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something cold brought him to his senses. There was a miniature fan spinning and the doors were open, circulating cool air. Footsteps were nowhere to be heard, the same for any shrieking or groans. Before him stood the grand dane, holding an empty drink cup and dripping what appeared to be water. Shaggy ran a hand across his face, the cool liquid settling into his skin, its chill rushing to his brain and snapping him into reality. Scooby watched with widened eyes that reflected concern for his master as he gave him some room to move. Shaggy blinked a few times, the blurry vision giving way to clarity. The children’s pictures, the office windows, the screens, the monitoring device, each returned to him one by one. Finally focusing on the now clear vision of Scooby Doo, a soft smile appeared on his voice.

“Scoob…?” His voice was soft and low, fighting through the grogginess.

“Raggy!”

“What…what happened? What did the Phone Guy say?”

Slowly rising, he stretched from the chair. Gripping the desk for balance, Shaggy shook his head once more, shaking off any dizziness that dared to surface. On the floor were scattered sign in sheets, payroll paperwork, information regarding the power supply, instructions on camera and monitor operation, and what each key went to on the keyring. As his strength returned, he knew he would have to clean the mess up, fill the paperwork out, and read up on everything. At least it would pass the time and prep him while taking his mind off the animatronics. 

“Re raid re rotta ronrerve rower ry reeping ra roors ropen.”

“Conserve power?”

“Reah! Roh rand reck ra rameras.”

The pizzeria probably ran on a generator which needed to last until the shift ended. 12:20 – only five hours and forty minutes left to go. Checking the cameras would probably help him see where the animatronics were and just how close they were to the office. Shaking his head, he took a few deep breaths, regaining his composure. He hadn’t fainted from fear in what seemed like years, though he wasn’t surprised that the things Phone Guy said and his own brewing thoughts pushed him to the limit, and brought him over the edge. 

Picking up the monitoring device, he began to check the cameras. It was a pretty self explanatory device that allowed him to check on whatever cameras and rooms he so desired. On stage rested only two animatronics, Chica and Freddy. Fear started the cogs in his head as he began to wonder where exactly Bonnie ran off to. Flicking to the dining hall, he found the bowtie bunny staring at the camera from the corner of the room as though it had just emerged from or was entering backstage. Feeling the rabbit’s stare through the camera, Shaggy swallowed hard, locking eyes with it. He knew what it wanted, he knew what it wanted to do, and he would not allow that by any means necessary. By now he had accepted that much to his terror, Bonnie would be roaming around hunting for Shaggy. The animatronic had paid him a visit once already, when it would appear again, he didn’t know though hopefully it wouldn’t be for a while. To have a job in the same place as your future killer (or killers) was a nightmare in itself and it was something Shaggy never thought he would ever experience in his life.

Nothing was displayed on either cameras staring into the East and West Hall. No animatronic hid in the supply closet or restroom hall either. The kitchen camera offered nothing but a shadowy static screen. No image was displayed other than the message ‘camera disabled, audio only’. No sound emerged from the kitchen which relieved him some, knowing he would have to sneak through to let the gang in. Pirate Cove, with nothing but a curtain covering up whatever rested behind it that sang a simple song. It was to no particular tune and it sounded like a man singing it, which made Shaggy wonder if someone had managed to sneak in. There was no possible way that that could be the animatronic singing, right? Velma had mentioned that Foxy rested within Pirate Cove and he had seen that earlier when they had examined the animatronics. Come to think of it, the singing had the same voice as Foxy. Shaggy’s eyes widened as he swallowed hard, hoping that Foxy wouldn’t emerge from Pirate Cove any time soon.

Flicking the camera to the backstage area, he was relieved to see Bonnie residing among the spare parts. Hopefully the rabbit would stay in there until he returned from the office and not try to hunt him down. 

Kneeling down, he retrieved the keys, knowing that he was ready for possibly the most difficult part of this case: going through the dark pizzeria to let the gang in. Grabbing the flashlight, he peered through the darkness just beyond the office he saw no glowing eyes or heard any footsteps or moans. To close the doors would waste power and he would only be out of the office for a few moments. There was no way an animatronic would crawl inside the office and wait for his immediate return, not when they could be out looking for him on the floor, it wouldn’t make sense. He would let Scooby be temporarily in charge of the office just to keep an eye on things. He knew he was quick enough to shut both doors should an animatronic show up and he had excellent hearing in case one of them came creeping through the halls. 

The kitchen rested next to the East Hall. If Shaggy could just sprint down the hall, tear through the kitchen, let the gang in, and run back to the office then he would have nothing to worry about. After all these years of running, he was sure he could make it to and back within seconds. He could do this, it would be terrifying, but he could do it. 

“Scoob, I’m going to let everyone in. Til then,” he removed his night guard hat, placing it on Scooby Doo who grinned. “You’re in charge.” 

The dog stood on his hind legs, his form straight as possible as he saluted Shaggy.

“Rot rit, Raptain!”

Taking the flashlight, Shaggy took a deep breath while staring into the darkness. What awaited him, he did not want to discover, knowing very well what could appear and lunge at him. He knew what these animatronics could possibly do and why, he did not know, other than the notion of intentional murder. Though knowing Velma and the gang waited for him made him smile softly. Now it was just a matter of getting to them. Turning the handheld light on, it sputtered light onto the shadows before him revealing no animatronics whatsoever; what a relieving sight for now. Slowly creeping out, he flashed a light down the end of the hall to be met with empty space. Swinging the light to the open archway of the hallway he saw nothing.

It was empty and quiet, the perfect setting for something to go absolutely and terribly wrong, just like a horror movie. He could feel his knees shake, but gathered the strength in knowing that he had hours to go and that Velma was behind the door. There she was again, surfacing like a balloon from a child’s hand and making his mind race. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t think of her now, having to focus with getting past murder machines in the pizzeria. He stepped into the hall as quietly as possible, wondering if animatronics could hear him and every move he made. Another step and none of them appeared. If he could just sprint through the pizzeria, to the kitchen, and to the back door he would be fine. Collecting his composure once more he stared into the faintly tinged darkness beyond the exposing light of his flashlight. What rested beyond that darkness he wasn’t ready to face, but would have to sooner or later. He could feel Scooby Doo’s eyes on him, pushing him with confidence to pursue the goal at hand. He smiled, knowing his friend had his back, and he took off like a rocket.

Shaggy couldn’t remember the last time he had ran so fast. Fred often joked with him, saying with how quick he was he could become an athlete, a runner representing Coolsville, if not the USA itself. He smiled at that idea, though he wasn’t one for sports. He was more of a music man and often missed his guitar that he sometimes brought with him on trips. Come to think of it, he should have brought it with him this time. Why he didn’t he wasn’t sure and couldn’t remember. 

Tearing through the pizzeria, his shoes click clacked on the tile and made him slightly fearful should one of the animatronics hear him. Reaching the main dining room, his eyes briefly scanned the area. In the distance rested the stage where the animatronics had performed for the public only earlier that day. He remembered Bonnie, Freddie, and Chica were on that very stage singing and crooning. Only now one figure stood on the stage and even in the darkness, Shaggy could feel its eyes watching him. Frozen to the spot, he could feel his legs itching to run as fast as he could, to get to the gang, to see Velma, to gain some hopeful reassurance before returning to that little office. His body trembled once more in terror, his brain urging him to look at the mystery shadow animatronic while his conscious screamed for him to run. 

As the light slowly and shakily descended upon the floor, it drew itself upward to the stage, pulled by some invisible string. The fresh linen for tomorrow looked like ghosts resting on flat surfaces, waiting for the opportunity to strike. Shaggy wished he was dealing with sheet ghosts and not the child eating animatronics at hand. With every second the light rose, the more Shaggy felt his spine shake. What rested in the dark he wanted to run from, feeling its detestable, angered aura from where he stood. The bottom of the stage came to and then slowly a pair of thick brown bear legs emerged followed by the torso and then the unblinking stare of Freddy Fazbear. Freddy had a stare like Bonnie’s in which its eyes seemed to tear into your soul and convince you that everything you knew about animatronics in life was wrong. That they were all harboring some secret that grinded their gears wrongly and that there was no one else to blame but the people around them. It was a lethal stare, much like the expression from earlier with Carl and the other adults. Shaggy bit his lower lip, forcing back any sound that may awaken or provoke Freddy. Quickly drawing his flashlight away from the stagnant animatronic, he wondered why it wasn’t moving or sprinting around the place. Perhaps someone had fixed the servos to prevent him from bolting about. If this was the case then Shaggy was relieved, now if only they had done this to the other animatronics then his shift would be much easier. But nothing was ever easy in life and he knew this all too well, especially when it came to cases.

Leaving the dining hall, Shaggy hurriedly entered the kitchen. No sooner he stood in the kitchen’s doorway, he wanted to bolt back to the office. Pots and pans clanged loudly and in his heart he hoped and prayed that there was an open window or a ventilation system that made air brush through, causing those noises. There was also the hopeful notion that somehow, the gang didn’t need Shaggy to unlock the back door and rather found another way in – if this was the gang. For all he knew this could have been some stranger or robber who snuck in for God knew whatever reason. Pans hit the checkered tile floor loudly, as cooking utensils clashed with some unseen force that made Shaggy press against the wall in terror. He hoped his beating heart couldn’t be heard by whatever it was that roamed about the kitchen. This thing, this being had to be rather large to be hitting nearly everything in the kitchen so wildly and loudly. No one in the gang had a big frame or stature and Scooby was back in the office. He wouldn’t have been able to come here, otherwise Shaggy would have seen him run past him.

It was then Shaggy heard a sound he did not want to hear. A rather sickly sound that made him pale and almost drop his flashlight. From the farthest most corner of the kitchen he heard a low, audible groan that sounded like a child in pain. Eyes widening, he knew in his mind this was not a person. He dared not raise his flash light to it, terrified he should draw attention to himself. The sound grew, wailing out in agony that couldn’t be seen and a faint glow could be seen. It outlined its circular head and the shape of its jointed shoulders. Another animatronic and judging by its shape it appeared to Chica. 

Shaggy knew he had to get his friends inside, but he also knew that they were more concerned for his safety. He couldn’t allow himself to be seen by this animatronic and if he were to go back he would possibly be seen by Bonnie. By now he was holding his breath, too scared to even breathe in Chica’s presence. Turning off his flash light to avoid any attention, he watched her as she seemed to throw herself into a rack holding various sorts of cooking utensils. Stumbling to that corner once more, she slowly began to turn and where he stood he knew he would be found. To his left there was rather large dishwasher and he knew there was no way he would ever be able to hide in that. To his right was a bulletin board with schedule of events to come, who worked what shift, sign in sheets, and an overall calendar. Beneath the bulletin board rested a rather large trash bin with wheels which Chica would probably see him in if she were to walk past. In front of him was an island where they adorned the pizza with toppings and whatnot. Cupboards rested at the base of the island and he knew that if he could just creep into one of them without a sound, then maybe Chica wouldn’t see him and he would be spared. Quickly dropping to his knees, he started to crawl just as Chica looked over her shoulder and finding no one in the doorway, began to groan sadly once more. 

His pockets suffocated the jingling sounds of the keys as Chica once more threw herself into the cutlery rack. This gave Shaggy the perfect chance to rush, open the cabinet door with a master key, and lock himself inside, the sound of the miniature door clicking lost beneath the clanging and clanking of Chica. Bringing his knees to his chest, Shaggy wrapped his arms around himself as tightly as possible. He couldn’t let her hear his frightened, pounding heart or his low, quiet breathing. He left his cell phone back in the office with Scooby who he hoped was all right. He had only been gone for five minutes, surely something couldn’t happen within that time frame, and he doubted that anything did occur. 

Now it was just a matter of waiting for Chica to leave so he could let his friends in. Listening for her movement, her groans seemed to grow louder, merging with the clashing of falling pizza trays. Shaggy’s spine shivered with every time she made that sound, that very sound that seemed to strangle his heart. It was as though someone ripped a child’s vocal box out and rammed it where Chica’s was. She wouldn’t sing, she would moan in pain. It was all he would think of her and how he would see her. Every time she would sing, it would be nothing but hurting moans that would emerge from her beak, and that’s how Shaggy’s mind would register it. The very idea and sound shook him as he tightly gripped his shins, remembering the situation at hand. She seemed to be close now, heavy footsteps just outside the cabinet door made his heart pound as though it were fighting for his life. His thrumming heart and her groaning brewed like a wicked sound stew in his ears and made his brain shiver inside his skull, horrified of her and how close she was. Through the minor crack that separated the door from the kitchen, he could see something there. Since there were no cooking devices rattling or clanging, Shaggy believed it was her leg. Those groans emerged in front of that cabinet door as his spine trembled with fear. Each pain induced note reverberated throughout the room, pounding in his head as he bit his lip.

For what seemed like hours that groan droned on and on, as though a murder was happening just outside the door. Of some small child being strangled by meaty hands or coping with a lodged, sharpened object in their body and was slowly dying from the injury. His body shriveled in fear, pressing his back as far as possible to the island’s inner wall. Shaggy quietly prayed that this sound would cease and Chica would leave, not returning to the kitchen for a while. Thankfully, someone seemed to hear his prayers and one by one those heavy footsteps marched away from the cabinet. Within moments they were in the kitchen’s doorway and outward. Shaggy waited until silence greeted him and those footsteps were nothing more than faded murmurs on the tile, roaming about in some other part of the pizzeria. When there was nothing but tense quietness, he proceeded to slowly unlock the cabinet door. In the darkness there was no obstruction, nothing to prevent him from opening the door. Poking his head out, he quickly examined the area for any glowing eyes or groans. To his relief, there were neither and he rose from the cabinet like a contortionist easily slipping out of a glass cube. Looking around to double check, Chica was still nowhere in sight and Shaggy sighed with relief. 

Rushing to the door, Shaggy shoved the back door key into the lock and twisted it. Throwing open the door, he was met with the gang who looked up from their phones. 

“Shaggy! There you are! How’s the shift?” Fred asked, pulling him into a hug like a long lost friend he had just reunited with.

“It’s….it’s like really something. Bonnie’s after me and I just avoided Chica by like the skin of my teeth!”

Pulling away from Fred, Velma managed to get a look of Shaggy in his uniform. 

Moonlight always had a way of distorting things for the better or worse and for Velma, it was the prior. Blue looked good on Shaggy and somehow, that silvery glow seemed to enhance it. Pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose, she looked away, smiling to herself the way women did when they had that melted butter feeling in their heart that was caused by someone. Someone warm and familiar, all wrapped into one person. But by no means did she blush, not this time. Looking over her shoulder at Shaggy she swore the man was looking at her as he conversed with Fred and upon seeing her stare, he seemed to retract his gaze to Fred. Either the moonlight was playing tricks on her or she was imagining things, but for now they had a case at hand. Straightening her posture, she didn’t notice Daphne had been watching her and was grinning like a fool.


	6. Into Darkness

Shaggy quietly led the gang into the kitchen. Bright light from the flashlight spilled onto the floor, illuminating the way for them. Daphne was the last one in and closed the door behind her as Shaggy locked it. Fred, Daphne, and Velma would manage to slip backstage while Shaggy would text them, alerting them if Bonnie or anyone was headed their way. From there, they would have to quickly figure out an escape plan, not wanting to suffer a terrible fate. Their best option would to be do nothing more than run, with no way of fending off the animatronics. Furthermore, if they did do any damage to the animatronics Carl could blame Shaggy or would question how they were injured. When they were done investigating, they would meet Shaggy back at the office and decide what to do next.

The plan seemed simple enough. But as Shaggy began to explain what he had heard on the recording and what he had experienced so far from Bonnie and Chica, the more he watched his friends’ faces pale in the dark. Tension lifted from the ground and settled into the air around them like a dense fog that suffocated them with fear. It wrapped around them like transparent serpents, coiling their legs until they were stiff with terror at what Phone Guy had said. Never before had they heard of something like this and wondered what Velma had gotten them into. They knew how dark the case would be, but what happened at night, they now regretted doubting that it was nothing more than a myth of the living animatronics. From the corner of their eyes they watched Velma, who had suggested they look into this iconic horror location from the beginning, and noticed how she bit her lower lip. There was no photographic evidence that proved the myth to be true, after countless hours of research. Her left hand clutched her right arm, fingers curled tightly around her sweater sleeve. Not only did the fear of the situation arise and grip her firmly as it did everyone else, but it seemed to draw her shoulders down in defeat in knowing she led the gang here. Though they did agree to it based on the information she could find. No one expected the myths to be true and that the Bite of 87 was what originally tanked this pizzeria into the notion of closing. Their eyes softened at this realization, terror still gripping them and making their hearts pound.

Shaggy didn’t tell them he had fainted because he didn’t want to worry them. Instead he had told them that Carl had left no sooner he had entered the building. The fear broke in the group, reality settling in and making them realize that Carl was not one to be trusted. He was running so much, avoiding questions, and hiding. 

“Maybe he like knows something?” Shaggy asked, trying to figure out why this man was fleeing from them as well as the general public so much.

“Wouldn’t you be ashamed or horrified to know the secrets of your business?” Velma spoke up. “Murders, missing children, free roaming animatronics. Who would want that to leak out?”

“But still he should answer questions regarding where people’s children are.” Fred spoke, his voice full of confusion and frustration with Carl and the ultimate denial of believing that children were in the machines that roamed about the restaurant. Seeing was believing in his eyes despite his many years as the leader of Mystery Inc. Normally, he would believe just about anything at this point and accepted that ghosts and curses did exist, but applied logic that there always was more that met the eye. Motives were taken into consideration as well as the use of anything manmade and not something paranormal. 

In this case though, he could find nothing manmade other than the animatronics, but how children would even fit in there made his head race. What motive would there be to child murder? Surely they would find some evidence of the murder or at least something pertaining to it backstage. 

From the hallway came a low groan that Shaggy had heard before and with every passing note, the sound slithered up his spine. As the sound came rolling down the hall, it broke the thoughts and logic of the gang as they slowly turned their heads to see the cause of the sound. Shaggy knew what it was, but knew there wasn’t enough time to hide everyone in the cabinets. He also didn’t know if the sound would pass them by and proceed to the office or re-enter the kitchen once more. He couldn’t make any noise whatsoever as his eyes scanned the kitchen island. Pointing to the cabinet, Fred arched his eyebrow and pointed to himself. Shaggy nodded and revealed the keys as he hurriedly approached the island, the click clack of his shoes echoing throughout the kitchen and making the heavy footsteps in the hall stop. Eyes widening, Shaggy looked over at the door way. There was no time, it probably heard his shoes and he dropped to the floor, throwing open the cabinet. The closest person in sight was Velma and extending a hand to her, she quickly reached down, her fingers locking with his’. Daphne and Fred hurriedly approached Shaggy as he helped Velma get into the cabinet. Looking over at the arch way that led into the pizzeria, the impending darkness seemed to grow, stretching into the room like some unforeseen monster. None of the rooms came into view and even the tiled floor seemed to be drowning beneath this immeasurable weight of shadows. Spreading into the kitchen, the heavy footsteps were heard once more, the heartbeat of the darkness before them. The knowing of something and anything could be out there.

“Daphne, come on!” Shaggy whispered hurriedly, holding open a cabinet door for Daphne.

Looking over her shoulder once more, Daphne shrieked.

In the door way stood that groaning animatronic that only mere seconds ago raided the kitchen for some unknown reason. Purple eyes among black circles merged with the darkness as a yellow body stood out from the invasive shadows. It was only now that Shaggy had noticed the bib on the animatronic’s body had read ‘Let’s Eat’ and swallowing hard, Shaggy knew that there was no other option but to run. Time had run out for them to hide in the kitchen where they could possibly be safe. Slamming the cabinet door, he watched as it parted its orange bill, unleashing a fearsome, loathsome groan of pain. It stared at the gang for a moment as though registering each one, attempting to see if they were people or mechanics. Velma rose from her hiding spot and Chica automatically locked on her faster than she did the other ones. Velma’s eyes widened as she stared at this being in the darkness, as its eye brows rose attempting to comprehend Velma and who exactly she was as well as the rest of the gang. When the answer came to that these people were merely endoskeletons without a suit, Chica knew what had to be done and hurriedly stepped into the kitchen. 

“Zoinks!”

“Chica?!” Daphne yelled and the animatronic moaned in pain, the sound raking down her spine and chilling her bones. That was no normal sound and what it sounded like made her wonder about the missing children and what emerged from Chica’s lips. 

“Quick! Everyone to the office!”

Fred took the lead and started to race out, grabbing Daphne’s wrist as Chica tried to lunge at her. Pulling Daphne to him, they bolted for the doorway with Shaggy and Velma behind. Shaggy thought Velma was on his heels and started to run. Only when he was near the door way did he hear Velma gasp in fright and swiftly turning around, he noticed she had tripped on the edge of the cabinet door. Her glasses were thrown from her face and his jaw dropped in terror, he watched as Chica slowly gained on Velma, jaws snapping furiously. The moaning had stopped and in its place those jaws clicked with hunger, raising its arms to Velma. 

“Jinkies! My glasses!”

“Velma!”

In that moment, no one was sure of what dominated Shaggy. Thrusting the flashlight in Fred’s hand, he pushed him forward as he ran back. Brushing past Daphne, she swore she something in the man’s eyes that in all her time she had known him she never saw. It was burning bright and wildly, like a first ignited lighter. It was something unprecedented and fierce as Daphne watched with saucer sized eyes. Even Fred wondered what exactly was running through Shaggy’s mind as he watched his friend move faster than he had ever seen him move. It was strange, as though some outer (or inner) force possessed him to brave the animatronic and rush to Velma.

Grabbing something, Shaggy quickly leaned down, his body over Velma’s as she came in contact with his blue cloth back. Chica’s jaws snapped furiously and in that moment he knew no fear other than the fear that was looking at him right in the eyes, knowing what it could do. He knew the murder it was capable of and manipulating his mind into trusting the thoughts he believed about children corpses in the cogs. In this moment he did not care if it was him inside, but it would rather be him than Velma. Gritting his teeth, he strongly preferred it if no one was in there and as it snapped and clacked its maws, he thrust a rolling pin between its teeth now coated with mucus and spewing the scent of something that curled up and died inside. Chica reeled, frantically reaching for the thing that prevented its jaws from closing. Groans burst from the mechanical throat, painful notes carrying through the air as the stench grew strong and made Shaggy swallow hard. Grabbing Velma’s glasses, he gave them to her.

“You okay?” He asked her calmly, fear building in the back of his throat as well as disgust from that horrid stench that he now tried to shake from his memory. 

Putting her glasses on, Velma couldn’t think of anything else to say other than-

“Well I am, now.”

Those four words made her blush as though someone had paid her a heavy compliment. It was something she had never said to him, especially with what was in her mind and heart. Daphne grinned once more like a Cheshire Cat causing Fred to look at her in pure confusion. Why, of all times, was she smiling now? In the darkness, no one saw her smile as Shaggy’s shoulders slumped in that feeling again that made his heart burst with warmth. But now was not the time for such feelings as the monster behind them struggled with the pin.

Hurriedly helping Velma up, he didn’t let go of her hand as he ran towards Fred and Daphne. Knowing where they had to go and what they had to do, Shaggy led them down the hall, his feet carrying him as fast as possible. Chica’s moans growing loud by the second made Fred and Daphne pick up the pace, Velma running with Shaggy to the best of her ability. The hall seemed to stretch, pushing them farther away from the office as Shaggy heard something fumble and tumble in the kitchen. Chica was getting close to eliminating the pin as Shaggy stared at the open door. Through the darkness, its spilling light was a sign of reassurance and hope that within moments they would be safe. Shadows swarmed around the light like flies on a dumpster as Shaggy bolted forward, taking Velma with him. He could feel that they were so close, even as Chica’s moans seemed to be growing louder. Quickly looking over his shoulder, he saw the yellow chick emerging from the kitchen, locking eyes with him. With every heavy footstep that pounded along the floor, the more Shaggy’s heart thrummed as well as the rest of the gang. Knowing Scooby Doo had probably heard those groans and footsteps, he used the last of his breath to yell.

“SCOOBY DOO! KEEP THE DOOR OPEN TIL WE GET IN!”

“ROT RIT!”

His final dash tore through whatever space distanced them from the office as Velma held on tightly, knowing her life depended on it. Entering the office, he skidded to a stop as he watched Daphne and Fred charge in after him. 

“NOW!”

Closing the door, Chica was met with the cold, metallic slam and groaned in protest. The groans slowly dwindled after what seemed like hours. That entire time they dared not breathe, in fear Chica should break down the door and gobble them up. Relief immediately came when Chica slowly sauntered away from the door, the yellow body reflecting in the window. Once Chica was completely out of view, Scooby raised the door allowing everyone to comfortably breathe. Slumping into the chair, Shaggy felt his heart slowly begin to calm and only then did he realize that all this time he had been holding Velma’s hand. Smiling softly, he gently released his fingers from her palm as she rested against his chair. When Velma felt this she sharply looked up, not meeting eyes with him but wondering why he had retracted his hand. Oh, right, it didn’t need to be held anymore; they weren’t running from an animatronic or trying to hide and knowing this she focused on regaining her composure. Daphne and Fred leaned against a wall, Daphne still smiling despite trying to get her breath and Fred for the love of God still could not figure out why she smiled so wistfully. 

“All right….gang,” Fred started breathlessly. “We…need…to go backstage.”

“Scoob, like did anything happen?”

“Ro. Rere ras ra rox rin Rirate Rove rhough.”

“Foxy?”

“Reah.”

“Did he like move or come out at all, Scoob?”

“Ro. Ronnie ras rere rhile rou rere rin ra ritchen.”

“Are you okay? Is it gone now?”

“Reah.”

Checking the cameras once more, Shaggy was relieved to find that Bonnie was nowhere near backstage, but rather hiding in the supply closet. It would emerge again and try to take the gang out, but Shaggy would be quick with the button. Chica was gone by now, where it had roamed off too they weren’t certain. Flicking the monitor once more, Chica now sulked within the restroom hall as though waiting for someone to emerge from a stall. How long the chick would be in there, no one knew. The same applied for how long Bonnie would hide in the supply closet and how much time there would be with the rabbit’s quickness and the slamming door. Their power was down to 88% and God only knew how long that would survive them for the rest of the night. It was good for now, but it would have to last until 6 am which seemed like a possibility. For Shaggy’s sake he hoped that some deity would be kind to him and allow him to last the night. 

The risk of getting to backstage and out of the pizzeria was as high as a kite. The animatronics acted on their own accord, choosing where they wanted to be at any time they so desired. They probably had sensors installed to tell them if anything or anyone was in proximity to them. Perhaps that determined their random and almost sporadic appearances. They wouldn’t know until they saw the bare endoskeleton with nothing but the functions and basics, without the character costume over it. 

“From how it appears,” Velma started. “They have an acute hearing, especially when it comes to footsteps. Their heavy footsteps though can easily be heard. We’ll have to keep our ears open for them.”

“Good idea, Velma!” Fred spoke.

“ Go like when Bonnie’s at the door. It’ll be too distracted with me to notice you guys.”

As if on cue, the purple rabbit appeared in the West Hall’s doorway. Cocking its head, that eerie groaning tumbled from his jaws tainted with dried blood, the decayed scent permeating the office and making Daphne cringe. 

“Do they all have that smell!?” She asked in repulsion and found herself reeling into Fred’s arms, her hand pressed to her nostrils. 

“I think so.”

The very sight of a supposedly inanimate object coming to life by some mechanical flaw and crying like a child made the gang’s spines grow tense. Shaggy did his best not to try and hide behind the chair, but Scooby Doo had already beaten him to it. His knees tensed, wondering if he stepped forward this mechanical beast would rush forward and attempt to eat him. Then his friends and Velma would be in danger. She was already in danger once, he couldn’t allow to happen again; the same for his other friends. Breaking his own tension with some form of sheer will, he locked eyes with the rabbit who scanned his face, registering it in its systems. Looking over at the rest of the gang, it took no time to memorize their faces. Shaggy knew they had to act fast, that he had to throw the switch not only to save them but himself as well. Slamming the button, the door fell with a mighty crash and through the steel sturdiness the moans echoed. Like a child who had lost their mother or something undeniably important (like a teddy bear or something close to the heart), it seemed to grow sadder with every passing minute. The sound grew and grew like an invincible weed as it slithered through the walls, a ghost wanting to be heard. Creeping down their backs once more the sound froze them to the spot, knowing what they knew of the children and the supposed myth that the animatronics held the corpses of children who were killed. The idea rose into their minds, pulling at their logic and making them wonder if such an atrocity could be committed and why would someone ever do that. 

“Why does….why does that sound like a child too?” Daphne asked, her voice trembling with terror.

“I think….I think they all have that voice.” Velma spoke, her voice’s clarity shaking at the notion that the idea could be true and Shaggy’s knees shook, believing the same notion.

“You guys better go backstage like while you can. I’ll let you know when the animatronics are coming your way.”

With this, Shaggy gave them his flashlight and the trio set off to the dining area. In the darkness there was no comfort or relief, but rather a suffocating tension much like what they had experienced in the kitchen. It wrapped around their throats as they peered through the shadows, seeking for solace or in the very least the dining area. From the hall of restrooms came the low sound of heavy feet shuffling through as though trying to find something. Velma looked over, fearful that Chica should emerge from the bathroom and target her once more. Though why she had stared at Velma for so long even baffled her. There were three other people in the room and while Velma was certain, Chica had registered them in her system, she wondered why the animatronic had taken the longest to scan her. There was nothing wrong with Velma or maybe its scanner failed to register in that moment and needed more time. It was a mystery that would hopefully be solved and not be left as another urban mystery. More heavy footsteps emerged from the bathrooms and with every passing moment, they seemed to grow louder. Quickly tapping Fred and Daphne’s shoulders, she pointed to the tables in the dining area. As they too heard the noise, they nodded their heads and all three proceeded to hide beneath the table cloth. It would be safer this way, the linen and chairs blocked the animatronic’s line of vision and they could still see from beneath the cloth. Once more the footsteps grew distant and finding this to be extremely lucky, the trio started to travel beneath the tables. With every table they travelled to, the footsteps pitter pattered between distance and closeness which made Velma nervous. Every so often they looked behind them or peered through the chair legs to see no one in sight. Chica probably kept herself to the bathroom hall for whatever reason, but it was enough to allow Velma, Daphne, and Fred make it to backstage.

Checkerboard floor led them into the seemingly cramped, dark room where all the repairs and murders had taken place. In this dark room, malfunctioned and spare jaws came to the flashlight’s glow as eyes seemed to follow their every move. They were used to eyes following them, but every so often it was just enough to make their spines shiver, much like now. On the table rested an endoskeleton as Velma began to take pictures and examine it. Crossbeams connected the parts together, lifeless eyes glaring at her every so often and giving her the creeps. Wires draped the frame as a voicebox was latched tightly onto the throat. Gazing between this and her memory of what she had seen of the animatronic, she wondered how a child could fit inside. Shaggy had said that Phone Guy mentioned that the eyes and teeth would pop out of the front of the mask to show a human was inside. However, that was only if an animatronic found you and proceeded to shove you inside a suit head first. If this was the case then, could the children have possibly decayed inside the animatronics? It would explain why their eyes did not hang out from the facial area and that maybe their teeth were still lodged in the farther most section of the animatronic’s mouth. The endoskeleton was rather large and judging by its shape, it appeared to be that of a grown adult which made Velma slightly entertain the notion of people fitting into the animatronic and controlling it. It seemed like a likely possibility, though she immediately snapped back to the children. It was a high chance that the children could fit into the animatronics given how large of a gap there was, despite the lack of a suit. Though now that she thought about it, the wiring would take up any space and there couldn’t have been much room once the endoskeleton was placed inside the animatronic, which meant –

“Oh God.” Velma paled, her voice sharp with fright as the image of something dreadfully awful came to her mind. Of someone mercilessly shoving a child deep into the animatronic, the motionless corpse slowly becoming dismantled and distorted, the bones crunching as parts penetrated themselves into the body. Gripping the table, Velma saw how the child’s body contorted to fit the animatronic and all its many wires and gears. Her stomach dropped as she grasped her lips, terrified of vomiting from the thoughts in her head.

“Velma, what is it?”

“I think I figured out how they did it.”

Before he could ask, something caught Fred’s eye. It rested in the corner and seemed to blend in with everything else in the room, even the eyes that now watched the trio as if sensing their presence, and wishing it to be gone. Approaching a Freddy head near the corner, he bit his lip with the idea that it would throw itself off the wall and latch itself onto him like a facehugger. Suffocating him until he could no longer breathe and lied unconscious on the floor and then, hopefully, not be stuffed into a Freddy Fazbear suit. Swallowing hard, he kept to himself his spine shaking like his knees as he slowly approached the questionable, mystery object.

“What’s this?”

At that moment of all moments, he received a text. Looking over, Daphne and Velma kept to themselves, examining the tools on the wall that were used for repairing the animatronics. In that moment he knew it would be no one else but Shaggy. None of his parents were awake and if anything, he didn’t have that many friends outside of Mystery Inc, so there was no way that it would be any one of them. As he flipped open the message, his face fell in horror to the letters on the screen. Each word seemed to ring out more fear as the message expanded, leaving Fred with a gaping mouth of terror of what was to come in only a matter of minutes.

GET OUT OF THERE. BONNIE IS COMING.


	7. The Forming Depths

What stood in the doorway made Fred suddenly lose interest in the strange object in the corner of the room. Purple rabbits were never terrifying before until this night. The same went for chicks and possibly bears and foxes. Daphne shrieked and Velma for one moment forgot how to use her legs to run. Thankfully, Daphne pulled her to her senses and dragged Velma behind her boyfriend. The eyes of the masks in the room stared at them intently, wondering what they would do next. His brain panicked, eyes darting in the dark for any means of escape or something that would help them fight off Bonnie. Shaggy had managed to shove a rolling pin in Chica’s mouth before so he figured he should be able to do something similar. The rabbit neared them in the dark and together, their fearful pounding hearts created a sweet symphony to the animatronic’s ears. The animatronic couldn’t see the terror in their eyes, but it knew they were in the room and so sensing their presence, it inched closer. Heavy feet on the tile and Fred dared not back himself into a corner where he could not escape and ultimately surrender himself to the mechanical monster. The tool rack was too far from his grasp but something else appeared that halted his heart. 

“Fred, what are we going to do?!” Daphne asked with fear as Bonnie drew nearer, the death scent unfurling from its mouth like a transparent river of disgust. Daphne cringed once more as Velma bit her lower lip, forcing back any repulsion that wormed its way up her throat.

“Well, it’s about to get foggy.” Fred spoke and grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall and unleashed a massive wave of the chemicals at the animatronic which recoiled, blinded by the mix. Once the extinguisher’s contents were exhausted, Fred grabbed Daphne’s hand who in turn reached for Velma as Fred led them out. The animatronic desperately tried to see in the dark and foam, but it failed greatly.

It was no doubt that Carl or an associate would discover the mess and not only blame it on Shaggy, but question how he even got back there and why. He would then possibly be fired or suspected of tampering with the animatronics or having snuck someone into the pizzeria. Not only would their plan be foiled of attempting to solve the mystery behind Fazbear’s, but there would be no way of ever returning to the place to obtain more clues. If it was possible, they could try and help Shaggy clean it up when his shift ended. 

Tearing through the dining room, the area grew tense as Chica’s moan surfaced and looking over, the trio saw her leaving the East Hall. They couldn’t stop running in fear of Bonnie breaking from the fog and chasing after them. Looking over, Chica saw Velma, Daphne, and Fred and this time, did not hesitate to run after them. Eyes widened from their terror that blossomed with Bonnie, they stared at the oncoming yellow animatronic, bolting through the pizzeria. Pounding footsteps made their hearts stop beating for a mere moment before realizing there was no time to waste. The footsteps grew quicker and tore across the tiled room as the trio dared not look back. Closing in as they ran down the hall, the open office door greeted them with a friendly invitation of safety. Inside Shaggy and Scooby Doo waited to hear their findings and to see their faces once more. Their feet carried them as fast as possible down the hall like horses in a chariot race. The posters seemed to watch them, much like the masks; their every move registered by some inanimate thing in this pizzeria which only made them wonder what exactly what was alive and what was dead in this establishment. Or perhaps the glares of the posters and masks were merely their imaginations culminating with fear and tricking them into believing that something that never moved, could move. It was always a possible notion and it was what made the unknown so wonderfully strange and scary. Passing the supply closet, the door knob seemed to shake as though someone was locked inside, though that idea was incredulous; there were only them and the animatronics locked in this place for the night. Ignoring this and believing their imaginations were once again up to their no good tricks, they pursued with their goal in mind. 

Fred threw himself into the door way followed by Daphne and Velma, who shouted for Shaggy to close the door to which he did so and yet, no Chica appeared. Had the animatronic wandered off or found comfort in the supply closet, they didn’t take notice. Relief found their way into their frames, their hearts returning to a normal strum and their minds easing with their imaginations. The door rose once more and no one was there. From this observation, the office fell into a comfortable calmness. How long it would be submerged in solace no one knew, but for now they took comfort in knowing that solace existed. 

“Like did Bonnie hurt you?” Shaggy questioned once the office had settled into tranquility. 

“No, we got out of there no sooner your text came. Bonnie’s quick.” Fred responded as he leaned against the wall, resting his head on the cool wallpaper.

“Good. Scoob and I were worried.”

“I managed to find an endoskeleton and started theorizing about how they could shove a child inside.” Velma spoke, her words bringing the room into the unsettling reality of why they were here and what the myths had spoken of. The images crawling into their heads once more like a horde of spiders from some unseen shadowy web tucked away into the fathoms of their mind. They knew what they had to discuss and solve, they knew what they had to find. 

Taking some paper from the desk, Velma began to draw and analyze, working out her theories. Her answers held the same result: that somehow the children were stuffed inside and were completely distorted. Their tiny anatomies could not meet with the adult sized endoskeleton. Wherein Phone Guy had stated the eyes would pop out of the head, Velma found no such thing had occurred from what she had seen of the animatronics thus far. As for the teeth, well since children had such a small anatomy, their teeth were probably lodged in the back of the animatronic’s mouth or throat. The rest of the body was shoved so deeply into the gears that bones may broken and the skin as well as anything else may have been penetrated with the animatronic’s inner workings. 

Knowing this had made everyone in the room pale greatly. They had dealt with child cases before and it was usually ghost children appearing to them in physical form. The ivory shade of the flesh contrasting with their white clothes they were last seen in, at times they spoke to the gang in various forms of physical means. Writing on the wall, showing their death scene, revealing their grave, moving objects, haunting a house. While most of the time it was serious and the deaths were mild (murdered by a person, ran over, incurable disease, etc.) none were was ungodly horrifying as this. They were not mediums to say the least, but they could figure out cases that regarded ghosts and other supernatural entities. Half of the time they were people in ghost suits or created ghostly projections. Other times, they were the real deal. 

“Can….can they get out?” Daphne asked fearfully, the idea of the ghost in the machine stirring images in hear mind merged with the ghostly moans of pain she had before emerging from the animatronics. The very idea made her body tremble with terror and worry for the children. 

“If they could, they probably would have by now.”

“Maybe something is holding them back?” Fred questioned.

“It’s most likely.” Velma retorted, eyeing her sketches. She couldn’t draw very well, but she drew what she needed to see inside her mind. 

“Shaggy,” Fred started, looking over at his friend who was downing a Dr. Pepper. “Did you notice anything backstage on the camera?”

“No. Why?”

“I swore I saw something back there.”

“Like, could you make it out?”

“No. It was too dark and Bonnie appeared.”

“Maybe you could like try and sneak back in there again?”

“Maybe. But when Bonnie came, we used up the fire extinguisher. We’ll help you clean it up when your shift’s done.”

Shaggy thanked him and returned to the monitors. Bonnie and Chica were still roaming about the pizzeria, waiting for them to appear at the doors. So far on the monitors Chica had returned to the bathroom hall and Bonnie had sulked backstage. How long they would be there, he did not know, but he started to notice a pattern with these particular animatronics. That they only appeared in certain places – Chica clinging to the East half of the pizzeria while Bonnie roamed about the West side. Freddy and Foxy hadn’t moved at all which was a blessing. 

“Well since there’s nothing else to do and we explored all we could, what do you say we come back at – what time does your shift end?”

“6 am.”

“We’ll come back then and help you clean up. Sound good, gang?”

It was amazing that Shaggy managed to get them out without any interference. Yet he still felt the jarring stare of Freddy Fazbear when he passed through the dining room and glanced at him on the camera. Foxy managed to stay in Pirate Cove and didn’t move, making Shaggy wonder if that animatronic was just broken. He remembered earlier in the day he saw its jaw flapping about when it would make sudden movements. When Bonnie or Chica greeted him at the doors and windows he was quick in his endeavors to slam the doors. At some point during the night Scooby Doo fell asleep which made Shaggy smile, wishing he had that blissful opportunity. But it was at then that in the future shifts he realized he could do that if he so desired. He and Scooby could switch places, no one was there to watch them or know. Both were fast enough to shut the doors and yet, the idea arose that what if Scooby Doo wasn’t fast enough and something entered from the right or left? He cared about his dog dearly and he wouldn’t allow him to do something that could bring about his doom. Scrapping the idea of switching, he decided that he would rest throughout the day. Surely, the gang would understand.

During the rest of the night Shaggy found himself filling out the mandatory paperwork that comes with a job. It was incredibly dull, but it had to be done. Check, checking account, social security, and so on and so forth. This seemed like the only professional part of the job; Carl didn’t even make him perform a drug test. Perhaps he really was desperate for someone to cover this shift. As the hours lingered on he grew used to Bonnie and Chica’s surprise visits. Maybe the next shift wouldn’t be so bad as the manual had informed him he had four more nights to go with this job. 

The morning came sooner than anticipated. Incredibly Shaggy only had 20% power left from his shift and he and the gang cleaned up the backstage area. He doubted Carl would even go back there or be concerned about a fire extinguisher. If the place was already falling apart, why would he care about something that could save people’s lives when their lives were already endangered to the animatronics that roamed about? 

Letting the gang in through the back door, they brought buckets and wash rags with them. Shaggy woke Scooby as they proceeded to reset the generator and make sure all the animatronics were back where they belonged according to the instructions guide Carl left for him. Bonnie and Chica stayed on the stage with Freddy who menacingly glared the duo. Foxy still stayed inside Pirate Cove, having not moved a mere inch at all throughout the night other than singing. Why he had sung, Shaggy wasn’t sure and thought his voicebox was activated but not his body which wouldn’t make much sense, but then again neither did his situation. Ghosts in animatronics and no bodies were found; where was the sense in that? There was none, for now, anyway. As they washed down the backstage area, Shaggy had told them he had found nothing else suspicious in his shift. 

When they returned to the hotel, the morning started to creep over the horizon. Dew coated grass giving the world a bit of gloss that no rich neighborhood could ever accommodate. Pink hues mingled with tones of blue over boutiques and suburbanite homes that awoke to begin their daily grind. Breakfast for the family, rushing off to the 9 to the 5, preparing the establishments that were set to open in a few hours. 

It was a life that the gang was used to outside of their mystery solving gigs. Velma was a pharmacy technician, knowing about the various medications and their effects while helping with the town’s library. Daphne was a model for a fashion corporation that was slowly working its way up to the ranks of Armani and Gucci. On the side she designed on her own fashions and submitted them to the same company. Shaggy was a local musician who played at various bars and dives and clubs and had gained a bit of a following. Fred was an assistant to a photographer, aiding in developing pictures and working in dark rooms for long hours. While they would normally frequent their lives, mysteries and urban legends still called to them and not one of them could deny it. 

The gang had returned to the hotel, tired from the start of the mystery. Shaggy was so worn that he didn’t even bother to change into his pajamas, but rather collapsed on the bed in his night guard uniform. Velma laughed to herself as she watched the man stretch out on his bed as Scooby Doo took the floor just beside him. Even as he slept his dog still watched over him like the faithful friend he was. Velma quickly slipped into a hot shower before changing into something more comfortable and crawled into her bed. Daphne and Fred did the same.

At some point in the early afternoon, Velma was awakened by the sound of someone knocking at their door. When housekeeping didn’t call, she knew it was someone else. Fred and Daphne were probably still asleep and no one from Fazbear’s knew they were here. Throwing on her sweater, she answered the door where Mrs. Grace stood, clad in black with a piece of paper in hand. Velma blinked and rubbed her eyes, stirring herself from the drowsiness that followed with sleep and greeted the woman in black as kindly as possible.

“How is the search coming along?” Mrs. Grace asked, curiosity building in her like a bottle rocket ready to launch.

“It went well. We’ll be going back there tonight. Our friend managed to get the job as the night guard so slipping in was an easy task.”

“Your friend? The gentleman sleeping on the bed beside yours?”

“Yes. He’s also able to look at the cameras and - ”

“Oh.”

Velma arched an eyebrow as Mrs. Grace examined Shaggy from afar as though retracing his face from a memory buried in her head. Velma watched her and knowing that this woman would not attack anyone, she allowed her to step through the door way and get a better look. The more she analyzed his features, the more her face began to lose its wrinkles as the memory blossomed from within. 

“I’m sorry, he….he looks like a boy my daughter used to play with when she was alive. I think his name was Daniel.”

“He does?” 

“Yes. They used to play together and would eat Fazbear’s together. He was there the day of the disappearance.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Yes, but he moved away to New York no sooner the incident had occurred. I remember he was crying, he wanted to see Tabitha once more. No one could bear to tell him the truth. I think Tabitha had a crush on him, honestly. Puppy love, it’s the best isn’t it?”

It would be something hard to do, to tell a child that their best friend had gone missing and could possibly be deceased. Children were too young to learn about death and his terrible truth. Of how he decided who was going to live for one more day and who was going to die within the next hour. Of how he would swoop in from some random point in time to claim his next victim. Some managed to escape his grasp by mere strokes of luck as Velma hoped that Tabitha and the others had managed to free themselves from death’s grasp. Yet all evidence seemed to point to the idea that death had come for them. While nothing was set in stone as of yet, the idea that the children were dead seemed highly possible. Though naturally she would not inform Mrs. Grace of that possible notion as of yet, the thought still lingered with her much like her shadow. 

Puppy love was a type of love that was inescapable by any age. Children were more susceptible to it and Velma laughed to herself. She never encountered that sort of attraction before other than to the man on the bed and possible celebrities. The resting man, her friend, she had crossed that threshold of puppy love for him before. Now she found herself falling to that emotion once more and knowing this, she blushed some. It was incredible how she could hide it all this time and he had not once noticed. Or perhaps he did and she was forcing herself to believe otherwise; he did stare at her when he let them in and he did hold her hand long after they were safe from Chica. Perhaps he felt puppy love too and was better at hiding it than her. She would have to figure out some way of testing this to be true. 

At the sight of Shaggy snoring away, something sparked within Velma’s head. Some thought birthed within the center of her brain and unfurled like a ball of yarn. Velma’s eyes widened as she stared at Shaggy, the idea quickly unfurling. The childish moans coming from Bonnie, the death scent, the likely idea that there was a ghost (and possible body) in the machine. The notion now reaching its peak she began to see what her brain spoke to her. Maybe the ghost and body in the machine were somehow related to Tabitha and Daniel. Maybe that’s why Bonnie seemed to solely single out Shaggy and slowly turn to the others. If Tabitha was murdered, then maybe she was - 

“Anyway, I came by to give you the addresses and phone numbers of the other parents’ children who went missing. I hope you don’t mind, but they did say if asked by you, they would be more than happy to give their side of the story.”

“Oh, yes, that would be helpful, thank you.” Velma spoke quickly, attempting to gather that thought she had in her head for one mere moment only to find it was lost among the sea of her knowledge. Mentally cursing herself, she smiled as Mrs. Grace wished her well in the search and left.

The train of thought was lost and looking at the numbers and addresses, Velma figured it would do them some good to try and talk with the other parents. They could easily interview them one by one as the days rolled on and during this time, Velma and the gang would try to piece together what exactly happened. Maybe Daphne and Velma could hang back and put their brains together while obtaining more information and Fred could sneak back in. Two heads would be better than one and Shaggy’s shift had only lasted four more days. No one knew what would happen in four days – the restaurant might close, the pizzeria may be torn down, but in the end all evidence to the case would be lost, and nothing would be solved. There had been no warning of the pizzeria closing and if there was, it was possibly overlooked or not noted by anyone. She would have to run the plan by Fred and Daphne, not wanting to wake Shaggy who she would tell everything to later before he started his shift. Until then, she dressed herself and left the room with two sleeping friends and her theories.

Lavender seats rested beneath ivory linen with anemone blossoms in the center of the table. It must have been the town’s flower or logo, having seen it everywhere she roamed so far in Brigton. Their floral scent wafted through the air, over the heads of the few patrons who ate alongside Velma. The hotel restaurant’s ceiling was dotted with little chandeliers whose fake diamonds sparkled like the morning dew beneath a painted mural of anemone blossoms, violets, and other purple shaded flowers. Purple often stood for royalty and with how rich this town had made itself seem, it didn’t surprise her that they bore such a majestic shade to add to the appearance. Smirking to herself, she bit into her panini. Her quiet lunch was followed by a return to her bedroom where Shaggy still snored away and having not finished all of her sandwich (there was at least another half left), she stored it in the mini fridge and wrote a little note on top, claiming that Shaggy could eat it if he so well desired.

Velma’s phone softly vibrated as she quickly grabbed it, not wanting the sound to stir Shaggy from his sleep. Reading the message, Daphne had wanted to know if she and Shaggy were awake and if they wanted to join them in the next room over. Taking the information Mrs. Grace gave her and her sketched out theories from the night prior, Velma quietly crept out of her room once more. Entering Daphne and Fred’s room, she found the two dressed for the day in their signature shades. She explained to them her idea of only Fred sneaking in at night to investigate the pizzeria, that way Shaggy wouldn’t have to worry about all of them (Daphne smiled at that), and that more research could be done with her and Daphne working together. Fred agreed to this idea which led Velma to presenting them with the information that Mrs. Grace had deposited earlier. Looking over the information, they figured it would be best to try and contact the other parents to explain their story of what happened on that fateful June day. They would allow Shaggy to sleep, having to endure a night of fright and long hours in that little office. Leaving a note for Shaggy explaining where they would be and that there was something for him in the mini fridge, Velma left the boy and his dog to rest. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second shift had started and once more Shaggy had found himself in that office. Fred, Daphne, and Velma had told him and Scooby about the new plan when they returned to the hotel. Daphne and Velma were to stay at the hotel and gather information and analyze it by means of what they knew and the Internet. Fred would sneak in around one and send Shaggy a text to let him know he was there. Shaggy had agreed to this plan halfheartedly, wanting to see Velma in these dark hours beneath the moon. The moon brought out the curve of her smile and made him adore her all the more than he had done so over these many, many years. Most women that had approached him were direct in what they wanted from him and he knew how to treat a woman based on what his mother had taught him as well as romantic comedies. First date, look nice, flowers, pick her up at 8, bring her home at midnight like the princess she was. Crystal had taught him the methods of women who wanted to be adventurous and he allowed her to, allowing his mind to be more broadened and knowledgeable. While he thought of her fondly, he knew that it would never have worked, having accepted that fact after all these years.

The red phone rang once more snapping Shaggy out of his thoughts and providing him with another tidbit of advice. Again, Shaggy’s body shook in fear, terrified of what this night would bring especially since Phone Guy had noted that the animatronics get more active as the week goes on. Shaggy had dreaded this shift since the night before, knowing what awaited him and the fact that the animatronics grew antsier with every passing night made him more scared of the very near future. Thankfully Freddy wouldn’t be as active unless Shaggy had lost power which he believed he wouldn’t because he hadn’t the night prior. Hopefully, this evening would be like last night – having only Chica and Bonnie to worry about and his quick vision and reflexes working in his favor to shut the doors in time. Not once did he use the lights unless Chica was heard roaming down the East Hall. He managed to walk away with power left over and his life. 

“Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn’t like being watched. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m sure you have everything under control! Uh, talk to you soon.”

The recording finished as Shaggy sighed, not waiting to see what was in store. Flipping through the monitor and cameras he saw Bonnie slinking about backstage, Chica walking through the dining area, Freddy glaring at him evilly on stage, and wait a minute, where was the other one? The curtain was parted and –

The sound of rushing footsteps on tile made Shaggy’s heart sink as he threw himself to the wall, slamming the door. As the door rapidly shut, he saw a glimpse of Foxy staring at him with hungry maws and recoiled in horror as the animatronic banged at the door. The night hadn’t even started and already there was something happening. Scooby had closed the other door behind him, seeing Chica emerge in the window with lights flickering above her like a damaged halo. Back to back with his dog, Foxy relentlessly pounded on the door and despite that Shaggy knew that door would hold he still wondered how long it would stand before Foxy was through. Shaggy wondered how much more active the animatronics would get during this night and the nights onward. Would they throw themselves at the door or shriek to be let in or do something ungodly horrific just to get inside. He wasn’t ready to find out and as the banging stopped he hoped that nothing was waiting for him.


	8. The Crossroads

Shaky fingers pressed the button to release the door where Foxy supposedly stood. If the pirate fox waited for the door to part then Shaggy knew he was done for, those rows of teeth seemed unforgiving and unkind. Their very sharpness glimmered through the darkness before Shaggy saw them vanish beneath the door. Swallowing hard, Shaggy watched as the door slowly rose like a spider retreating into its web. With bated breath he saw the doorway emerge and from it, no figure made itself known. No mechanical footsteps marched forward and no eyes glowed greedily for Shaggy’s flesh. Once the door fully reclined into the entry, Shaggy unleashed a sigh of relief.

“Rat rust rave reen Roxy.” Scooby spoke as he watched his owner lean against the wall, fear rapidly sliding off his frame.

The way Foxy’s jaw moved in the daytime was rather loose when compared to Freddy and the others. Even when running down the hall, something seemed to bang together other than the fox’s feet on the tile floor. Shaggy guessed it could have been that loosened jaw and wondered how exactly it could have gotten so freed from its hinges. It was as if the animatronic had bitten into something rather hard and rough. The Bite of 87, maybe he was the likely culprit who stole a person’s frontal lobe. Or worse, what if he bit off more than he could chew when possibly eating a child? Swallowing hard, he was relieved to see that the fox had run away. 

Though his moment of recovery was shaken by the soft wailing of a child behind him. Turning on his heel, he noticed Chica was rapidly approaching the East doorway, her footsteps thumping through the hall. Scooby Doo bolted to the other side of the office, hurriedly closing the door and making Shaggy’s tension fade. He wasn’t sure what he would do without his best friend by his side. Carl said to lose him when the job started, but he refused to do so. Scooby would never harm anyone unless danger was on the rise and even then, Shaggy would do his best to defend him. 

Tonight seemed like it would be harder than ever, now with the appearance of Foxy. Thankfully, Freddie still hadn’t moved from the stage and yet he stared intently through the camera at Shaggy, as though studying his prey. Though he would rather take a stare down as opposed to a sudden surprise visit and while the bear had not budged, Shaggy hoped it wouldn’t in the remaining nights to come. Penciling in his shift time and checking the monitors, everything seemed to be in good shape so far. Bonnie stalked backstage, Freddie lingered on stage, Foxy was now back in his cove, and Chica was watching them from the window. Her dark eyes stared at Shaggy like a starved man seeing food for the first time, making Shaggy swallow hard. 

What sparked in her systems he did not know nor did he want to find out. He actually found it rather odd that Chica targeted Velma the longest. Maybe it was good Velma stayed at the hotel from now on. He wouldn’t have to worry about her getting eaten or injured. Shaggy couldn’t bear to see that happen to her. While he did care for his friends, the idea of Velma being harmed especially tore him apart and he knew why. Smirking to himself, he could feel his heart quake at her name and even her mere image in his brain. He wasn’t sure when he would tell her, but when he would he –

Hope you don’t mind, but I brought you a pizza. I figured you’d be hungry.

Shaggy’s smirk curled into a smile, thank God for pizza – the ultimate cure for hunger, a scary shift, and figuring out when exactly to confess his feelings for Velma. Thank God for Fred texting him such a simple message that automatically changed his night. When Chica slipped away, Shaggy once again left Scooby Doo in charge and quickly took off. He had reached the kitchen sooner than anticipated and rapidly opened the door. 

Hoping no animatronic heard him, he quickly pulled Fred inside, and scanned the dining area and East Hall. Bonnie had vanished into the depths of the West Hall which made Shaggy swallow his fear. So far so good and judging from how it appeared, Fred could easily walk around for a few seconds getting where he needed to be. Fred presented a pizza which Shaggy took without question in exchange for his flashlight. Returning to the office with a little late night snack in hand, he watched Fred disappear into the darkness of the pizzeria.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Interviewing another family whose child mysteriously vanished at Fazbear’s was a simple task. Thankfully, they were present that afternoon while Shaggy slept before his second shift. A mother and father named Jaclyn and Rupert Mossley had lost their boy, Andrew around the same time Tabitha had disappeared. Andrew had gone to Freddie Fazbear’s on an evening in June; he had just scored the main goalie at his soccer game and he and his parents wanted to celebrate. It was a fun night like any other night at Fazbear’s and not once did they look away from their son. They had heard about Tabitha and didn’t want the same situation to be repeated with their son. As they were leaving the pizzeria, Andrew had realized that they accidentally left the packaged leftovers on their table. He ran in to grab the box, but never returned.

Andrew was eleven years old and his parents had trusted him with such a simple task. Rupert even waited at the door for his son to emerge. The only time he ever looked away was when he was holding a door open for a customer and when he bent down to tie his shoe. After a few moments of his son not returning, he stormed into the pizzeria to find no one had seen him; not even Carl who claimed he was in the office. Rupert even checked around Foxy’s area, knowing that his son liked Foxy the best because he loved pirates. Rupert and his brother, Fred, often told Andrew about Captain Cutler, Blackbeard, Captain Kidd, and so many other nefarious sea scoundrels. When Andrew wasn’t found there, he flew into an angered rage that sparked Jaclyn to emerge from the car and the police to be called.

Rupert had fallen into alcoholism when his son could not be found by the officials. He and his wife couldn’t afford a lawyer to dispute the case which turned them into private detectives who scoured the location much like Amy Grace. He guiltily admitted of sneaking into Fazbear’s when it was closed only to be caught by Carl who had left something in the office and Mike Schmidt, the guard on duty prior to Mystery Inc’s appearance. From thereon, Rupert and Jaclyn had restraining orders placed against them for trespassing on closed property. In their clue hunting days they barely found anything about their son, but noticed that one by one the associates started to vanish. According to their research, most of them didn’t want to work for a place where children went missing or were moving onward in their lives to another town or going off to college. In their place, new workers popped up completely oblivious to the past disappearances at Fazbear’s. Most of them were teenagers who just wanted a job for the own reasons.

Rupert clutched a bottle of Dornfelder in his hand, providing a rather testy but informative interview in which he loudly cursed himself for not being there for his son. Jaclyn sobbed softly telling them what had happened from her point of view and backing up her husband’s words. Sharing what evidence they had with Fred, Daphne, and Velma, they took photographs and copies. There were even a few recordings of conversations they had with others; of cops claiming they saw nothing at Fazbear’s, of others who were there that night Andrew went missing, and of Carl’s constant denials of not knowing where Andrew roamed off to.

As Daphne and Velma stayed in the room she shared with Shaggy, the duo began to discuss what they had already known about the case so far. Papers and photographs littered the floor, giving them a chance to look at everything at their disposal. Once their facts were written out and presented to each other, they began to theorize. Maybe Carl did know something he couldn’t be that oblivious, maybe the cops were in on it, maybe the animatronics did eat the kids due to a system malfunction, maybe, maybe, maybe. The ideas swarmed in their heads like bees as they talked about each theory in great length and detail while sharing some tea and sandwiches from their room service. 

“So…,” Daphne started, taking a break from their discussion. “Want to tell me why you were looking at Shaggy last night? And why you said that sweet little line when Chica attacked us? ”

Velma almost spat out her tea as she thrust her palm over her lips. Crimson filling her cheeks, she thought no one had seen her secret stare towards Shaggy. Her body shrunk slightly in shyness, not being one to talk to about what she felt for Shaggy.

Love for Velma was something that hadn’t normally crossed her mind unless the right person had attracted her attention. Even then, she knew how to play the game as Daphne had taught her for years. Don’t give in so willingly, don’t let them get away with anything they do, always be wary, and never surrender your heart until you feel as though they are the right one. For all the years to come, Velma had soundly followed these lessons and constantly struck out either due to the man or something that she did not like. Daphne would always be there for her as well as Shaggy who had brought over a surplus amount of food that she enjoyed. He would stay with her and let her vent and watch movies with her. Sometimes he would even take her out to new places to take her mind off her ended relationships. 

“Um…” Velma couldn’t answer, the humiliation tumbling forward in her cheeks making them turn into cherries. Her brain scrambled for answers to find none. While she had spoken to Daphne many times before about relationships and love, she never did tell her about what she felt for Shaggy. 

Daphne wasn’t the gossip toting type when it came to her friends and knew when to bite her tongue. She never spoke of Velma’s relationships unless given permission by Velma herself and even then, she would refrain from saying anything. Velma had spoken to her about every guy she had dated outside the group, knowing that a future with them could succeed or fail. Yet Velma feared telling Daphne what she felt for Shaggy, not wanting to ruin a fantastic friendship. She didn’t want to bring the drama of a friendship turned relationship into the group and knowing this, she often held her tongue when those warm pangs of admiration for Shaggy arose. Furthermore, to even keep such a secret form a friend made Velma feel incredibly guilty. Friends never kept secrets from each other and this was probably one of the deepest secrets that Velma had ever had. 

“Velma, it’s obvious that you’re feeling something for Shaggy. It doesn’t surprise me.” Daphne reassuringly spoke and sipped her tea in a manner that only a dignified woman could possess. 

“Really?” Velma’s timid tones broke through her blush as she watched her friend from the corner of her eye. 

“Of course. Why else would you look at him like that?” Daphne quipped and Velma, now curious by what she meant exactly, fully faced her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Like…..what?”

“Those dreamy eyes of admiring a man in uniform. Every girl loves a sharp dressed man.” Daphne did have a point there and Velma knew it all too well. “So, are you going to pursue him?”

“Um….,” Velma couldn’t remember the last time she was so damn shy and absolutely hated it. She had forgotten that love could make people weak both physically and mentally and how it could change a person almost entirely, if it weren’t for their soul to snap them back, and remind them who they were.

“I…,” Velma started. “I do like him. Some days I think about him and I just feel…something. Something like when two particles collide and spark.”

“Velma, we all get crushes on people who are extremely close to us in our lives. It’s just a matter if we choose to pursue it or not.”

“I…I’m scared to. Daphne, I’ve known him since I was a kid. He and I have a strong friendship and to turn that into a relationship, what if it goes wrong? We’ll be too angry at each other to ever see each other again and I don’t…I don’t want to risk losing possibly one of my best friends!”

Daphne watched as the passion mingled with concern in Velma’s hazel eyes and swore she heard her heart pound. It was a cry of confusion, of standing at the crossroads and not knowing what road to take. It was a plea, a need for a sign to help her decide what road to walk down. To the left rested the safe route that Velma always walked and to the right beckoned a foggy avenue that gave way to a world she did not know. She had been in relationships before, but this, this was much different. Daphne knew this dilemma from many years ago when she and Fred initially decided to become an item and knowing this fear, she smiled at its outcome. While her results were not the same for everyone, she smiled softly.

“Velma, you and I both know that he was looking at you that night.” Daphne’s soothing tones spoke once more causing Velma’s racing head to come to a sudden halt. Playing back last night she remembered it all too well – she looked at him and then him at her. Once more, her cheeks burst with crimson and made her brain and heart melt into an intangible mush.

“So you think….?”

“I’d say so.”

The foggy road seemed much more alluring now and knowing this, Velma sighed to herself. She knew she saw him looking at her and now that she thought about it, how long had he been staring at her after all these years? Obviously the man hid it well, for she only knew he did it last night. Had he had these feelings too she now questioned herself and if he did, then maybe things would go a lot smoother without conflict. But the idea of a friendship budding into a relationship still terrified her. Daphne and Fred were lucky, but for Velma luck was a fickle fish that didn’t know when to be captured.

Daphne smiled at her friend whose mind raced for answers on what to do now.

“Listen, you remember the lesson: let him come to you. Shaggy can be incredibly straightforward at times- remember how he fought for Crystal? Remember how he defended you against Chica? When have you ever known the man to be a fighter?”

She had a point; Shaggy was as calm as a lake, but when danger arose against a girl he loved – wait, he was in love with Crystal when he fought for her. Could it be then that maybe he felt something for Velma as well and if he did, why had he not confessed it? Or was he waiting for the right time? Or was he merely doing it out of friendship? Surely she knew the man long enough to know that he wouldn’t leave his friends to be injured. Velma swore if her cheeks grew any redder they could be confused for Mercury’s rusty surface and knowing this, she swallowed hard. Daphne grinned and knew what exactly was going through Velma’s head. They knew what had to be done now and knowing this, they returned to their notes.


	9. Damage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, you probably might be wondering about this week. I've been busy offline taking care of things and these things have been affecting my health rather terribly. I should be all right now that everything is nearly handled. Anyway, here's another chapter for this fic. Enjoy :D

The backstage area seemed darker with only one person searching through the parts and endoskeleton for clues. Fred could feel the eyes of the masks following his every move as he used the flash light to seek out what he initially swore he saw before. The extinguisher wasn’t replaced by management as he wondered if anyone had noticed or cared. It wouldn’t surprise him if a lack of fire safety would add another reason for this place to close or perhaps they had other extinguishers scattered throughout the establishment and he hadn’t noticed. The spare endoskeleton lied on the work bench, its dark frame waiting to be fixed to a suit and roam about. Come to think of it, when had the innards of the animatronics been cleaned or changed? Fred furrowed his brow, wondering such a thing. 

Fazbear’s had been opened for some years. They had to maintain the animatronics on a daily basis, usually at the end of the day. Shaggy wasn’t assigned to clean the animatronics, but rather to babysit them in their nightly adventures. If Velma’s theory was correct in that children were shoved into the animatronics, then they would have had to clean the bodies out. But in order for them to do so, it would disprove the notion that the animatronics reeked of corpses and that sometimes mucus and blood leaked from the orifices. The only other explanation would be that the animatronics were cleaned and that the leaking liquids were nothing more than spiritual phenomenon. Frankly, Fred wished it was spiritual activity and not physical animatronics roaming about the establishment. Spirits were easy to deal with once an investigation was taken place. 

So far, the animatronics behaved rather oddly and would take an extra minute or so to analyze their targets. Fred found it incredibly strange that Chica stared at Velma the most while ignoring the others during their fateful night. It had registered the others rather quickly (as all modern technology should and Fred believed that they were using the most advanced technology of this time), but for Velma, Chica took the longest in registering. It was as if the machine was malfunctioning or something was altering its facial scanner to focus on Velma the longest. Perhaps, Fred’s eyes widened in thought, a spirit? If spirits were trapped inside the animatronics, then was it possible that they were trying to reach the gang somehow? What more could they do, Fred wondered. They could only speak what their voice boxes programmed to and if there were ghosts in the machines, would they not have spoken by now by means of possession? Maybe they were exerting themselves by possessing the animatronics to move and that drained their energy so they could not speak. It was a strange notion to think and Fred registered it in the back of his head as he stumbled upon the corner where he swore he saw something just the night prior. An outline of something tall and sinister, but relaxed like a skeleton without a body.

Flashing the light into the corner of the backstage area, Fred questioned his sanity when nothing appeared before him. Examining the corner, his flashlight only cast its glow on dimmed darkness. Nearing the area, Fred’s eyes scoured the section for any sort of clue. No gears or tools rested on the floor and no animatronic sat, waiting to be activated. Sighing to himself, Fred believed that it was the lore of Fazbear’s combined with his imagination and trembling nerves getting to him. Figuring he would return to the Office to check on Shaggy, he turned on his heel only to be met with the dark stare of Bonnie.

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“Like Scoob, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Ro, rhat ris rit?”

What rested before Shaggy made him wonder what exactly was in the pizza Fred had brought him. Knowing his friend wouldn’t lace his food with anything, Shaggy felt his head lightly tap the farthest wall of the office behind him. There was nowhere else to run and that strange, sickening scent of blood began to dominate the room causing Shaggy’s head to spin. He could very well open the doors, but those animatronics would slide in with their hungry maws and greedy hands. But how this one got in was a mystery he couldn’t decipher. He had had the doors closed for what seemed like hours after being relentlessly visited by the animatronics. Bonnie and Chica were especially restless in the passing hours, like frequent trick or treaters who couldn’t get enough of a good scare. Foxy was ruthless at times, but he was more relaxed, just like Freddy who still hadn’t budged from the stage, but rather stared at the cameras like a sociopath. However, none of them managed to enter the office except for this one. This one was new and faded gold and slumped by the desk as though someone stole its life from its very hollow, void like eyes. It was like staring at an empty corpse in a lonely morgue with the nagging fear that at any moment it could spring forth with life.

Shaggy gripped the monitor in his hand, while the other fished for the arm rest to reassure himself that he was still stuck in reality and not in some secret, alternate dimension. Feeling the chair and monitor in his hands, he swallowed hard, his body trembling wildly in terror. From the animatronic, the office was filled with the sound of backward gibberish spoken in non-comprehensible demonic tones. Every misshapen syllable made Shaggy’s spine contort with terror as he tried to figure out the message, but failed in his endeavor. Even Scooby with his excellent hearing failed to interpret the strange noises that emerged from the animatronic’s lifeless frame.

“It, it’s – it’s gold. Wires are like, poking out of his shoulders.”

“Raggy?!” Waving a paw in front of his friend’s face, Shaggy gently shooed it away, his eyes never leaving the eyeless animatronic before him.

“It…it looks like Freddy but gold.”

“Raggy?! Raggy rap rout rof rit!”

“I-I can’t, Scoob, like I got to see if it’ll attack.”

Scooby Doo always saw ghosts. He saw monsters, too. He saw everything and only now he realized was something very, very wrong. He had helped Shaggy close the doors on the animatronics prior to this strange circumstance and knew none slid in. The doors hadn’t been opened in a while because of Shaggy’s growing fear that they would appear when he wasn’t attentive and he and Scooby would be met with a terrible fate. Fear clung to him like a leech and easing him of that fear was something far more challenging in a situation like this. 

He watched his human friend quiver frightfully and bite his lower lip, wide eyed at the thing before him. Slowly turning his gaze from Shaggy, his eyes came across what exactly struck fear into his friend’s heart and felt his stomach drop. All this time he looked at the doors and screens, never once did the dog stare at the desk long enough to see the monstrosity resting against it. He should have looked sooner and brought his paws to his mouth in shock. The top hated golden bear leaned like a recently murdered person over the tiled floor. Scooby easily understood Shaggy’s fear and felt his fur shake as though it would run away from his very skeleton. It was strange, the mechanical monstrosity evoked fear into them but did absolutely nothing. Shaggy’s heart seemed to stop pounding as though the very organ’s beat would awaken the animatronic from its slumped state and trigger him to lunge. He watched with bated breaths as he swore two white dots emerged from within the dark sockets before him and roll upward. Those tiny dots of vision locked with Shaggy’s hazel eyes and made his skin turn to that of a ghost. Gasping sharply in horror, Shaggy slowly brought the monitor to his chest, his only shield in case the animatronic should strike. 

Scrambling for the East door, far from the ghastly sight, Scooby’s paws searched for the door switch if not something to fend himself and Shaggy with. He would defend the man from anything and everything as long as he lived. Now that he could see the enemy, he would try his best to free Shaggy from his horrified state. Shaggy watched the animatronic as its fingers seemed to twitch as if gaining life from some mysterious force and throwing up the monitor to his face, Shaggy braced himself for impact. Scooby’s paws quickly searched for something to fight off the enemy with as his elbow rammed the door switch. As the door slowly rose, a gust of pizza scented air swept into the room. The familiar smell began to dominate the gore tainted air of the office as it pressed down on Shaggy’s nerves, smoothing out his shaking frame. Peering over the monitor, Shaggy watched as Golden Freddy began to vanish with its dreadful demonic voice. Scooby quickly reached over to the desk and snatched Shaggy’s phone taking a picture of the fading hallucination. Fear crawled down to the tip of Shaggy’s spine like an escaping arachnid as the animatronic no longer slumped within the Office and the weird message no longer resounded within the room. The pizza air encircled Shaggy and struck him hard, snapping him to his senses as he blinked a few times, awakening from the fear induced moments the animatronic held him in.

Eyes returning to focus, he lowered the monitor and looked around. Golden Freddy no longer rested in the Office and looking over at Scooby Doo, he grinned in elation only to be suddenly dragged into the depths of terror once more. A certain yellow animatronic appeared behind his friend.

“Look out, Scoob!”

Chica wasted no time and grabbed Scooby Doo with her wings, screaming like a banshee. Scooby Doo howled while yelling his friend’s name as Shaggy raced to a fire extinguisher in the office. Carl would ask about the fire extinguisher, but Shaggy didn’t care. His friend’s life was on the line and it was far more important than some graveyard shift gig. Scooby’s body writhed wildly as Chica slipped his head into her mouth as the canine yowled in protest and terror, swinging his hind legs as they struck the animatronic’s frame. The kicks meant nothing as Shaggy swung the extinguisher at Chica’s head sharply, causing it to cock rather eerily as though it was eternally set in a new position. Scooby saw the office’s light and poked his head out from the dark maws.

“SHAGGY!”

Swiftly turning his head, Shaggy saw Fred banging the windows at the West Hall. Eyes widened with terror he kept looking from between the office and the West Hall as rabid footsteps were heard tearing down the tiles. Shaggy knew it was Foxy approaching judging by the sudden speed and believed that Bonnie wouldn’t be too far behind. Bonnie hadn’t shown up in a while and it wouldn’t surprise Shaggy if the rabbit had appeared backstage just when Fred was examining the area for clues. 

Chica seemed to be murmuring moans beneath her breath. The yellow bird was slowly returning to her normal state as Scooby writhed, the grip slightly loose from the sudden impact. He was nearly freed from its winged grasp when it grew tight once more and made the hound yelp. Chica’s head cocked into place and glared at the dog and his owner.

“SHAGGY LET ME IN!”

“RAGGY! RELP!”

Never before did Shaggy find himself in such a predicament as this. If he didn’t free Scooby, he would lose his lifelong best friend. If he didn’t save Fred, he would lose a great leader and someone he had grown close to like a brother. Eyes darting between the two, he swallowed hard as his heart pounded in his ears like drums pressuring his mind to make a decision. Scooby Doo had been his best friend for as far back as he could remember. He was there for him for every day of his life. Even during high school Scooby never left Shaggy’s side as he helped him through the rough exams, the rejected dates, and everything in between. Naturally, Fred was by his side as well throughout most of his life as well as the rest of the gang. Fred was getting his life together now, having married Daphne, and it wouldn’t surprise Shaggy if the two wished to raise a family in the near future.

Once more Scooby Doo slowly found his head entering Chica’s mouth and the bumps of its teeth pressed against the back of his neck. Howling and yowling, he thrashed about and Shaggy cringed. He couldn’t wait anymore and hearing Fred’s pleads behind him, he knew what he had to do.

Taking up the fire extinguisher once more, he gave Chica’s head a good whack and Scooby fell to the floor completely free from the animatronic’s grasp. Spraying the mechanical bird with foam, Chica fell back through the door way and into the East Hall. Shaggy knew Carl would have his head for damaging the animatronic, but from how it appeared there was only a dent in the right side of Chica’s head. The damage would either come out of his pay or he would possibly be fired, but most likely the latter. While it possibly blow their mission, Shaggy would be truthful in telling Carl what had happened. Clearly, Carl had to know about the animatronics based on how he would always leave before Shaggy’s shift began and how fearful he seemed of them during the day. Perhaps Carl confronting him about his damage to Chica would lead to more information that the gang had not yet obtained and would aid them further in this mystery. 

Slamming the door switch, Shaggy turned on his heel as Fred shrieked in terror. Shaggy had never heard the man scream before and his eyes widened, thoughts trickling into his head. He knew he would have had to choose between Scooby or Fred and making the choice he did, he hoped he could salvage a shred of time to save Fred. Fred no longer pounded at the window, but his shrieks still echoed through the office and West Hall. Rushing to the West Hall door, Shaggy threw it open just in time to see Foxy and Bonnie ganging up on Fred. The pirate, crimson fox towered over the blonde male as he shivered and shook with fright, his ivory sweater now stained with crimson as Shaggy paled. Bonnie moaned that terrifying sound as it climbed into Fred’s ears and circulated in his head, the crowbar he had used to fend for himself during backstage with Bonnie was long gone. Having tripped when running away from the purple rabbit, the crowbar went flying beneath one of the tables of the dining area, leaving him no time to retrieve it, and do nothing more than run.

“FRED! THE DOOR’S OPEN!”

At the yelling of Fred’s name, Foxy stopped moving. His eyes rolled about Fred’s frame, analyzing the terrified man and registering him slowly as though matching the name to the person. Recoiling slightly at the bleeding man, Foxy examined him like an item behind glass causing Bonnie to lunge forward at Fred. Scooby Doo rushed to the door and bolted towards the animatronics as Bonnie snapped its jaws at Fred.

“SCOOBY NO!”

The canine growled and Bonnie groaned louder as Foxy still analyzed Fred. Something was clicking in the animatronic’s head as it watched the rabbit and the dog defend a man whose name that the animatronic swore it heard before. But from where, it did not know and attempting to remember, its eyes dimmed darkly and flashed again much brighter than before. Looking at Fred, it reared forward only to be met with Scooby’s snarling and bearing its teeth he chomped viciously at the dog who did not muster whatsoever.

Fred found himself pinned to the wall with fright, pain, and uncertainty. To move would mean Scooby would be in his position and would probably not survive the fight of two on one. But Scooby was quick and could easily escape situations like this and perhaps this is what Scooby’s intentions were: to fend off the animatronics so Fred could escape. He had seen Scooby perform this maneuver countless of times before, but always felt guilty leaving his canine companion to scare off the villains. To this day, guilt still surfaced in his mind at allowing his friend do such a thing, though nothing would be accomplished by dwelling on guilt and that it would be best to do what Scooby wanted. Sliding his back up the wall and using it for balance, he made his way to Shaggy’s arms as fast as possible. Shaggy caught him, pulling him into the door way and whistled for Scooby Doo to return. Fred was safe and no longer needed the protection of Scooby as the dog slowly worked his way to the door. 

Foxy’s eyes glowed and watched Fred in the doorway. He was retreating and that door would close and Foxy would never see the man again unless it was the light of day or when he was roaming the halls at night. When that would be though, Foxy was uncertain and struggling to speak, the notes of its song only burst through. Frustrated, it clicked its teeth together and balled its hand like a child who was angry at something it could no grasp or explain. Stomping its foot, Foxy tried to speak once more, but the song came tumbling out from its loose jaw. Yelling in anger, Bonnie looked over its shoulder and groaned as though attempting to communicate with the animatronic in the only language it knew how. 

As if wondering what was wrong with its friend and why they were throwing such a tantrum, Bonnie smacked Foxy as though telling it to ‘get it together’. Foxy’s eyes burned with disapproval and whacked Bonnie upside the head, as though chastising them for forgetting how to speak and how Foxy, after all this time, had only spoken the words to the songs of Fazbear’s pizzeria and to its own little tune of ‘dums’ and ‘das’. Foxy stared at Fred, its mouth moved slightly trying to form a message.

Scooby managed to slide into the door way as Shaggy’s fingers stretched for the door switch. Fred stumbled and caught himself on the wall as Shaggy hurriedly grabbed him. Now was the chance to speak and Foxy stared at the bleeding man as it opened its jaws and shut them, quickly re-teaching itself to complete a basic human action. Its voice box sputtered and stuttered, but what emerged in the next moment made time stop in pure astonishment and the world slow to the strangeness of Fazbear’s. 

“F-Fred.” Bonnie’s jaws stopped moving as it looked over at Foxy who spoke the blonde haired man’s name. Bonnie now turned on its heel as Foxy placed its hook on the purple rabbit’s shoulder as though stopping them from attacking. Bonnie’s eyes watched its friend, curious as to what it was doing let alone saying and cocked its head in confusion. Foxy shook its head as Bonnie fell back, its eyes never leaving Shaggy.

Glancing over at the West Hall door way, Fred clung to Shaggy as Scooby pressed against Fred’s leg to support him. Fred’s eyes widened as his body paled. Shaggy felt his body tense with fear as he stared at the animatronics in disbelief. Even Scooby felt his jaw drop, spellbound at what the fox had just said. A wave of ideas flooded their heads as they felt their bodies slump in wonder and awe. How did Foxy speak like that? Why hadn’t the others spoken like that? Could they do more than groan and yell and howl and shriek? How could they talk other than what they were programmed to? Hearts pounding in unison, the men suddenly wondered if their original theory was true, that children rested inside the machines. Though if this were true, Foxy’s partially exposed frame would reveal some decomposed skin or bones, but faded blood was evident on its lower jaw as it now neared them and Scooby Doo. Perhaps it was their souls speaking through the voice box, reaching out for help, attempting to create a connection with some savior. Fred quietly wondered if spirits had inhabited the animatronics and that this was one of them breaking through, gaining ultimate possession without energy exertion, and speaking. Foxy watched the stunned men and spoke once more in clearer diction.

“Fred!” Foxy’s metallic hand pointed to the blood on Fred’s snow white sweater and then back at itself. Its bright eyes dimmed in sorrow, sympathetic for the damage it had inflicted upon Fred. It was communicating and Fred’s spine shivered, uncertain as what he could say to the animatronic. His jaw hung low in shock, never before had he witnessed something so disturbing and weird. Animatronics could talk (this he knew from past experiences), but it was nothing more than what they were programmed to and not of their own will. What will did this animatronic had? Was it a sleeping soul starting to stir and seeking out help from its mechanical prison? Swallowing hard, Fred’s mind raced to say something, anything to establish contact. Establishing contact with spirits was often difficult, but this came rather easily much to Fred’s surprise. Had he lost contact now, the whole mission would complicate itself and when they would receive such an opportunity like this again, neither men or dog knew.

“It- it’s okay.” Fred’s voice chimed with clarity. Foxy’s eyes brightened once more, seemingly happy to be forgiven for something destructive as Bonnie’s stare sharpened on Shaggy. Why Foxy had chosen to speak, let alone speak with Fred in an attempt to connect with him, neither men were sure. It was strange and definitely another level in their mystery as Foxy’s frame eased, ferocity leaving its body. Fred watched as the animatronic neared him before Shaggy’s fingers slipped, sealing the gap between the machine and men with a door.


	10. The Crying Soul

“Fred! Fred! **FRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!** ” The child’s voice merged with Foxy’s causing a distortion of static and sorrow to ring throughout the establishment. The animatronic pirate fox’s hand and hook rammed against the closed office door, each pounding matching the beat of Shaggy, Scooby, and Fred’s hearts. Eyes widening at the situation before them, the two men felt their bodies pale. 

Looking over at Shaggy, Fred swallowed hard. For now he was the only connection to the animatronic and spirit. He would have to do his best not to upset the child’s soul. He also wasn’t sure how long the child could use its energy to speak through Foxy and wondered if he had transferred his energy to the animatronic to roam around at night, searching for a savior to set him free from his metallic prison. The animatronic would rely on its own mechanics and generators throughout the day, causing the soul to rest, and sometimes, possibly, to peer out through Foxy’s eyes and watch the world it had once known before his death. Yet it was stated that the servos had acted up after dark, causing the animatronics to roam around the pizzeria, but Fred quietly questioned what had caused the servos to malfunction: the children’s souls trying to contact someone or the old technology?

Since they did roam around, maybe, just maybe, they were scared of the night guard. After all, that was the only person left in the vicinity when the restaurant was closed. Why they would be scared of the night guard, Fred wasn’t sure and perhaps this fear prohibited the souls from speaking to the night guard in hopes of being released from their mechanical cells.

“Sorry man, my fingers slipped!” Shaggy’s fingers quickly crawled to the door switch.

“Get it open, maybe I can talk to him.”

The door opened with a sudden whoosh and Foxy poked his head in. Locking glowing eyes with Fred’s, the fox animatronic stood alone, Bonnie having taken off into the pizzeria. The animatronic looked from the wound it had inflicted upon Fred to the man’s eyes. Where metal, cold orbs gazed upon the restaurant, now were those same eyes, but now glimmering with depressio. The animatronic neared Fred as Shaggy fell back and whipped out his phone, recording the encounter just before his eyes. Scooby retreated beneath the desk, his eyes never leaving Foxy in case the animatronic should strike again.

“F-Fred?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Fred spoke softly as he had done to many children before and something seemed to spark in the animatronic’s eyes. The sadness fading slightly, giving way to joy that it could finally talk to someone close after the months of the child’s passing. 

“Tell dad,” the animatronic started, its voice sounding like a child on the verge of crying. “I said I’m sorry for leaving the pizza here.”

Fred’s eyes widened, remembering the name of the boy who had vanished here, who had adored Foxy because it was a pirate fox, and how that boy loved his pirate tales told by his father Rupert Mossley and his uncle, Fred. How that boy disappeared when he went inside to retrieve the pizza box he had left there by accident. Biting his lower lip, he understood; from the pictures he saw of the boy’s uncle in his home, Fred almost looked like the relative except for having coffee colored eyes instead of green. Fred wondered if the boy had seen his parents through Foxy’s eyes as they roamed about the pizzeria at night before being caught by Carl and Mike Schmidt and wondered if the boy would try to call out to his father and mother who desperately sought out for him, let alone any evidence. Oh how painful that must have been! To be a child, calling out for your parents who didn’t know you were deceased and that your soul rested in a beloved animatronic or who didn’t hear you and were avoiding being harmed by the other animatronics and being caught by the workers of Fazbear’s. Fred couldn’t even begin to imagine how horrible that must have been and his heart wretched and ached in sympathy for the boy captured in Foxy’s suit. 

“Hey, hey, Andrew,” Fred cooed gently. “It’s not your fault, you know he’d forgive you anyway. Besides you didn’t know what would happen.”

A sniffling sound arose from Foxy’s jaw as mucus trickled from its nostrils and Fred’s eyes widened, knowing that sound. His heart cringed to know he couldn’t comfort the child as Shaggy felt his heart sink over the noise. Fred Jones of Mystery Inc. was in no means related to the boy, but it still pained him to know of the boy’s fate. He was too young to be murdered and possibly stuffed – wait a minute. Upon looking at Foxy’s frame up close, he noticed that the animatronic was worn and torn in various places. Even the jaw itself, when opened wide would expose a head if there was one in there and from what Fred had seen when Foxy cornered him, there was no skeleton or skin to be found in that animatronic. Cocking his eyebrow, he began to wonder where exactly the corpse was. He didn’t know Brigton very well and wasn’t too sure where the cemetery was or even secret places that a cadaver could be hidden in. For all he knew Andrew’s body could have been submerged in a lake nearby or buried in another person’s grave or even in the possession of the killer.

“Hey, Andrew,” Fred spoke through his hurting heart. “Can you…tell us what happened…?”

Looking up, Foxy nodded slowly and stopped sniffling.

“I was here with my family…..in June…..I left….pizzaaaaa-“ the voice box screeched, the old technology kicking in causing Scooby to clamp his ears, and Fred and Shaggy to cringe.

“Sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Fred reassuringly spoke.

“Pizza…in here…..came back….and….and….and…..purple….purple guy….said….he was sorry….he took my pizza to the kitchen….go with him…he’d take me to…it…I…followed him.” 

Shaggy’s fingers tried not to tremble in fear, knowing how the story ended with the child dying and their soul in the suit before them. Swallowing hard, he kept a firm grip on his cell phone. Scooby neared Shaggy out of pure fear of the story being told and that he swore he heard Chica crying from the kitchen camera. Leaning against his owner’s leg, he stayed close to him in hope of finding some solace to relieve the terror rising from within him. Fred dared not move and found he couldn’t move, fear pinning him to the spot as transparent hands made his eyes widen and his jaw slowly drop with every syllable uttered from the speaking soul. Tension draped his body like an invisibility cloak and caused his shoulders to drop slightly, making him appear shorter than the fox before him.

”H-he came back…..said.....they…thr-threw it out…..feel free to look a-around….while I…make you new pizza….no charge. So I walked around.” The animatronic shook its head, as the child’s voice fell silent for a mere moment, recollecting its memory.

“Sorry…..went up and down the halls….found….myself….in….the bathroom. And…..andddddddddddddddddd…”

The soul of Andrew sobbed and Shaggy nearly dropped the phone from his quaking fingers. The trembles had trailed all over his body as he felt Scooby Doo hold him up in case the terror overwhelmed him. Shaggy’s stomach slowly slipped through the rest of his body and his toes curled in fright as Fred’s fists balled and released; anger possessing him for a moment that anyone would do anything to a child only to be dominated by mourning and grief for the boy whose soul cried.

“Oh God.” Shaggy murmured to himself, the automatic thought of pedophilia coming to his head and how that they had investigated some cases before where children’s spirits were unable to rest because of traumas like pedophilia. It wasn’t that common of a situation, but when it arose something banged his heart into his ribs to the point where he swore it stopped beating out of shock that someone could do such a thing to a child. He hoped this wasn’t the case with Andrew, the soul speaking from within Foxy.

Fred’s mind questioned the same and his madness spiked, intertwining with the remorse he felt for the child his heart began to jackhammer. While there was nothing he and the gang could do (other than attempt to find the killer and bring him to justice), they still felt for the departed children who were forced into their fates at young ages. They had their whole lives ahead of them to grow into wonderful people and live and experience the world in different ways. To live, with the haunting notion of molestation and not die, would mentally annihilate them, but they would be (hopefully) strong and rise from the past like phoenix. Waiting with bated breath, the men and their canine companion hoped that there was no pedophilia in this mixture, knowing that the children would be eternally haunted by it with no means of recovery.

“H-he….he climbed…into….into my stallllllllllll….and…..and….h-he…,” the soul cried and wailed loud and long as Foxy’s jaw slacked and bared its skinny neck. The sound rattled their ears and souls and minds as they swore they could collapse form such a sorrowful howl. The static and child’s crying merged and mingled, causing a distorted shriek to emit from Foxy’s voice box and the scent of mucus and gore to emanate much stronger than before, now penetrating the office with its distinct disgust. Fred’s jackhammer heart stopped at the ear splitting sound and Shaggy fell to his knees, completely torn from everything the soul had just said and the howl he emitted. Scooby Doo held him up, their eyes widened with terror as their hearts fell silent to the soul’s screaming.

How long the ungodly sound resounded throughout their heads and the office, they did not know, but they allowed the soul to yowl and howl for as long as it needed. God only knew how many times Andrew tried to contact the night guard or even Carl or someone in an attempt to tell them his side of the story. Most people ran away or were fearful of the animatronic at night and during the day, people ignored it believing Foxy to be nothing more than a source of entertainment. No one looked past the animatronic and find the soul of a murdered boy who loved pirates and his family, especially his Uncle Fred. Of those failed attempts, depression probably wickedly brewed in the soul along with everything else that had happened. Now that someone was listening, now everything could hopefully be brought to justice, but it would be hard to prove the existence of a soul inside a metallic skeleton when no one would approach it other than Fred.

Throwing Foxy’s head forward, the jaw clanked against the skull and Fred was jolted from his trance of watching the soul howl. He had never heard anything so dreadful and dark in all his life and he wondered if other souls could shriek and scream like the one before him. By no means would he ever test it, but rather he would do as he always did when dealing with souls: allow them to express themselves without harm done, allow them to speak when they so desired, and to always, always keep patient; the rest followed suit and the gang abided by these notions as well. Locking eyes with Fred once more, the soul spoke softly and hurt as though it had accidentally caused harm and trouble and was owning up to it.

“It….it…it hurt. I….I didn’t see what it…..was….but….but it went through meeeeeeeee……a sword…or knife…..I-I..I don’t remember much after that……all…..all I know is….I wound….up…….some-somewhere cold and dark and smelly.....”

“W-what,” Fred’s voice faltered, already horrified of the scenario the child had presented them with. Shaggy held his breath, gripping the phone to make sure that he was still in reality and not stuck in some horror house. The phone became his solace, his reassurance that this was the real life, and not just some fantasy. Scooby leaned against him, reminding him of where he was. 

“What did it smell like?”

“T-trash.”

Shaggy dropped the phone. Scooby Doo was too frozen with terror to reach for it or catch it as Fred felt his mind shatter from the realization. Whoever murdered Andrew must have dumped their body in a dumpster out back (there was no way he could have chopped up the corpse and flushed it, it would have taken too long and it would have been noticeable by then). How the murderer was able to toss the corpse into a place that smelled like garbage baffled Fred because there would have been a report of it. Hopefully someone taking the garbage out or at the junk yard would notice a cadaver, but there was always the chance that they hadn’t and that the body would be hidden under rubbish and other long forgotten trash heaps and that the body would possibly be condensed into miniature pieces by way of those trash compacting machines or the very metallic jaws of the truck itself. There was also the possibility that the murderer had chopped up the corpse (too time consuming) and thrown the bits into a trash bag to avoid suspicion and everyone would regard it as a normal trash bag. They would never suspect a chopped up corpse topped with trash. Besides, one could only have so many eyes when dealing with trash in both taking it out and the junkyard itself. For no one to have seen Andrew’s body (minced or not) would have been a high possibility and the smell of carcass would blend in nicely with the stink of landfills and junkyards. For no one to have seen the body meant that there would have been no report whatsoever and now Fred wondered, why hadn’t the camera captured it all? Perhaps (like other things in this restaurant) it glitched or was faulty and that the night of Andrew’s death it had malfunctioned. He would need Shaggy to hunt down any video footage from the night that Andrew had vanished. He would ask him to do this late when their nerves weren’t as shaken or broken like they were now.

“S-s-s-so the m-man,” Fred started once more, swallowing any welling tears that came to his eyes in sympathy for the boy. “Did you see his-his name tag?”

Foxy shook its head no, the soul’s hurt vocals speaking through the loose jaws of the fox.

“But…but…he was purple. Purple….a purple guy.”

“Bonnie?”

**“NO!”** The animatronic roared, the glow flickering in rage that they would dare suggest the rabbit had harmed another, let alone killed someone. Shaggy and Scooby reeled, hiding beneath the desk and Fred felt his feet slowly give beneath him as he slid slightly on the tile. Gripping the wall, he winced at his wound and locked eyes with Foxy’s eyes once more. 

Shaggy’s eyes widened in realization of himself and what he, like the others, had believed, but refused to act upon should the evidence be true, but for Andrew, it appeared not to be true. That the machines were not out to harm anyone and that rather, they were seeking an escape, someone to speak to and possibly help them from their position. The machines by far were no means murderous and Shaggy felt a hard strike of guilt punch his heart and stomach for even believing the mechanical beings were carnivorous. There were ghosts in the machines, just as they initially believed but refrained from doing so without proper evidence. Now the evidence was before them, bared like a nude woman posing for art. They were scared and Shaggy understood this now, but still, he had questions. If they were scared to talk Shaggy (let alone anyone else from Mystery Inc.) and trying to contact them, then why did Chica try to eat Scooby Doo? Why had Bonnie tried to chase him – eyes widening, Shaggy began to wonder even more about Bonnie than he already had. 

Fred questioned if the animatronics would harm them now, knowing that at least one of them could communicate to someone who was more than willing to help them. Perhaps, they would need to see each member for themselves and examine them as Foxy had analyzed Fred and caused this situation to occur. Maybe even each animatronic was connected to a member in some, strange fashion and maybe they served as memories of their lives before their fate rose to meet them. Fred had shared the same name as Andrew’s uncle who he was very much close to and now he wondered, how else would the animatronics react to the gang and why? Bonnie had already stared at Shaggy strangely, as though having seen them somewhere before, and Chica had acted the same way around Velma. He wondered if the interviews they conducted with the parents held clues. He would have to investigate the interviews with Velma and Daphne when the next day arose and from there, they would continue to interview the other parents.

“He waaaaaaas,” Andrew spoke once more through Foxy as Fred broke from his thoughts and focused on the animatronic. Shaggy snapped out of his mental questions and locked eyes with Foxy. 

”..…he was just….just a purple guy.”


	11. Darkness Before the Dawn

Purple guy. Nowhere in any of the reports or stories was there such a phrase regarding this person or so they remembered. Andrew would give no reason to lie when confessing his murderer, especially after attempting to establish contact with someone after all this time. Children would only lie when they were scared or wanted to hide something and Fred believed that Andrew no reason to do so. Andrew was a brave boy, to keep trying after all this time. While he was scared of his situation and for his parents back home, he knew courage was key in his corrupted mortal state. He knew his uncle would be proud of him for being so brave like a pirate and that was all Andrew needed to help him when discussing how he wound up in Foxy’s frame. 

“Does Purple Guy have a name?” Fred questioned gently as Shaggy scrambled for his phone that still recorded the scene before him.

“It’s-no, he…..he had no name….taaaaaaaaaaaaag.” The voice box shrieked louder than ever causing Shaggy to cringe, his body curling tightly into a ball and Scooby to howl in pain. Fred did his best not to crumble from the sound before the animatronic. Foxy jerked its arm shakily, as though it took the force of a thousand cogs to make the arm move in the way the spirit wanted it to. Raising the metallic palm, it struck the base of Foxy’s throat a few times before the screaming stopped.

Scooby stopped yowling and Shaggy looked up, releasing his ears to the sound of silence that held the office and its occupants within. The quietness was not tranquil, by any means, but rather, dense with tension as it rooted them all to the floor, waiting in silence to hear what would be spoken from the crying soul. Their eyes never left Foxy, knowing the spirit’s story and allowing their questions to be answered and even more to develop. By no means, would they pressure the child into answering questions he did not know. They did interrogate, yes, but by no means were they too harsh towards victims. 

“I-I never….caught his name….either.” Andrew spoke clearer now as the lights flickered and faded, plunging them into darkness. 

Monitors and camera footage fell to shadows that bore no solace, but rather brought fear. They all knew what waited for them in the dark, but where they were and what they were doing was another matter. Those screens offered them some warning as to where Chica, Bonnie, and Freddy roamed about. Before them stood Foxy’s slender outline, the darkness cloaking the animatronic as its eyes glowed somberly yet eerily. The shadows caused his hook to glisten and reminded Shaggy of that old ghost story of a hook being latched to a car door when teenagers were going home, gossiping about the story of a murderous man with a hook hand. Swallowing hard, he knew Foxy hopefully wouldn’t harm them as long as Andrew possessed the animatronic. Foxy was engulfed in the boy’s spirit, but how long that soul could retain the animatronic, they did not know. What was worse, they could not close the doors. Any moment, Andrew’s spirit could weaken on the animatronic and lose control, causing a rather horrifying fate for the men and their dog. Bonnie and Chica could easily crawl in with nothing but the glow of their eyes to alert everyone that they were present. What would happen next no one dared to imagine, Scooby having already endured nearly being devoured by Chica’s orange maws.

Fred followed the glow of Shaggy’s phone to his friend who crouched on the ground, frozen with fear at everything that had occurred and every word he had heard. Scooby still watched everything from beneath the desk, hoping for the night to end sooner than later. Foxy’s head swiveled left and right, searching for the other animatronics but found none. Breathing a sigh of relief, Andrew wasn’t sure how long they would wait before pouncing. When Mike Schmidt was present, they would immediately be drawn to the dark office, knowing very well what had happened and that the night guard would be unable to defend himself. He was able to survive, but not his sanity. 

“Raggy! Ra rower’s rout!”

Shaggy quickly leapt up from his position, his fingers running over the monitor that read 0% power. The door to his right was never opened, in fear of Chica waiting for him even after being hosed down and whacked with the fire extinguisher. The light for Fred to enter the office was never turned off, both had wasted enough energy in the time they had spent speaking with Andrew. Shaggy and Scooby had forgotten they were still activated, too terrified from the conversation at hand and what roamed throughout the pizzeria. Fred hadn’t taken notice, too caught up with Andrew and deciphering his back story.

As far as everyone knew, there was no way to recover power. All power would be returned at 6 am, when the shift was complete and it would be time to clock out and go home. Shaggy knew this and felt his heart pound, having never been at this job in the complete darkness without any power. Shaggy was never afraid of the dark, but this place gave him more than a reason to be frightful of the shadows. His phone could only last for so long to peer through the glass and doorways and see who stood before him, ready to devour him and his friends. Scooby bit his nails nervously as Fred peered through the door ways, thankfully seeing no glowing eyes stare at him.

“Zoinks! And it’s only like 3 am!”

“I….I’lllllllllllllllllllll try….to hold off the others….tell them….you mean….no harm…” Andrew spoke, Foxy’s mechanical eyes peering left to right as though something rested behind his frame. When nothing appeared in its line of vision, he nodded and slowly sauntered down the hallway. 

Normally, Foxy would be fast, but tonight was a night of new beginnings, of a soul that was partly freed by having his story told to someone who wasn’t that scared, but rather, familiar. Tonight he would be on his guard and for the many more nights as long as Fred or his friends appeared, he would be on his guard. Perhaps, they held some connection to the others and maybe they would be able to tell their stories just as Andrew had told his. In his departed heart and with every fiber of his soul, he hoped that they could be helped. He barely knew the others in real life and at best, maybe encountered them every so often. Brigton was a small town so it was highly possible to run into the same person twice, if not many times more. However, he appeared to be the oldest of the group or so he could discern from their voices when they spoke or cried. He had rarely heard them and when he had they were calling out names to those who weren’t there in the night. They were sorrowful tones that were almost torn with tears and every time he had heard them call, his soul crumbled some. He wondered if this new night guard heard them or was too overcome with fear to understand their cries and moans. He did seem rather terrified back there, but also kind as to be helping Fred. Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up like Mike Schmidt – a fired man who had lost his sanity at Fazbear’s to the sound of animatronics crying and trying to swallow him.

At the office, Shaggy searched frantically for any source of light other than his phone as Scooby and Fred helped him. Often Fred winced at the injury given to him by Foxy before Andrew spoke. The only light source they could find was the flashlight Shaggy had given to Fred and Shaggy intended to use it for as long as possible. They could begin barricading with whatever they could find in the office, that way it would be easy to place everything back the way it was prior. Should they take anything from the pizzeria itself would draw suspicion in the morning, especially if they wouldn’t replace the objects in their exact place by then. Even so, it was dangerous to roam out into those dark depths, knowing what could attack or lurk and what they would do.

Fred slumped on the office chair and Shaggy pulled out the first aid kit. Scooby poked his head out of the doorways, searching for any threats, staying on guard as alert as he could be. When nothing approached, he took a deep breath but still remained ever vigilant like any other dog that cared for his friends and master.

“I recorded everything, like Velma’s gonna love this!” Shaggy claimed as Fred removed his bloodied shirt and leaned back, allowing Shaggy to do his work. Dampening a cloth with his water bottle he had brought with him for the night, his mind seemed to freeze, digesting everything. 

Andrew was a soul trapped in Foxy’s frame, his body possibly somewhere undistinguishable in a trash heap of a landfill or junkyard miles from the pizzeria. The very thought alone made Shaggy sympathize for the boy who never got to live, his mind throb terribly with dark thoughts of the boy’s body, and his heart ached for his terrible fate. His soul only seemed to speak with Fred for some reason and he couldn’t understand why. Surely, he would find out sooner or later, but he did say he would tell the other animatronics not to harm him. Perhaps, they would have a change of heart and this would be easy work for Shaggy. Maybe he wouldn’t be so scared after all this time. The only thing he would really have to fear is…..something he never considered up until this point in time.

After all these years, he knew of his love for Velma. It faded off and on with his relationships of Googie and Crystal and other women that entered his life. Yet they never seemed right for him; Crystal nearly was, were it not for the face that she lived on the other side of the universe. He had even accepted the fact that she was an alien and that he could live with that. He had seen worse in his life and by all means, it never made him hate her or dislike her more. He actually found it rather different and more inviting than those in his past. But then there was Velma, intelligent, loyal, and (at times) feisty Velma. Velma who had known him since his childhood in Coolsville and not once did he regret their friendships. Come to think of it, some of the deepest moments in his life were usually discussed and experienced with Velma; should he pursue his heart’s wishes to become a musician, should he stay true to himself, should he change, should he fit into a more adaptable role for society. While Velma did offer him suggestions and ideas, he often took them to heart while reasoning with himself. At times he did grow fond of her and even had harbored a secret love for her, much like he did now. Sometimes, he would even fantasize about dating her, taking her to museums just to hear her talk, escorting her to seminars to understand what she loved and why, and getting to know her more than he had done so all these years.

He could have sworn he caught her catching a glimpse of him in his uniform the night he had let them into Fazbear’s. Maybe she liked him too after all these years. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope. But to ask her out, was possibly more frightful than every single mystery he had encountered. Nothing would ever amount to the fear that had culminated in his head about asking her out to an observatory and maybe a nice dinner.

“Say Fred….,” Shaggy started as he began to clean Fred’s wound. “How….how do you ask someone out?”

Telling Velma he liked her wasn’t the problem. Shaggy had grown used to the confidence it took to tell someone how he felt about them when it came to romance. Crystal broke him of that nervous antic and after turning him into a puddle of mush, he understood that he couldn’t be shy anymore. He had to take the bull by the horns, but even so something spoke from the far corners of his mind, reassuring him that he would be anxious when confessing his love for Velma. He believed that little voice, even when he tried to quell it with all the ways he would tell her until her dying day.

“You have a girl in mind?” Fred questioned, wondering who Shaggy was talking about and wondering how the man had even met a woman during their time together at Fazbear’s.

“Velma.”

Oh. Well that explains it. That explains….a ton of things actually, especially why Daphne smiled at Velma when they first entered Fazbear’s on Shaggy’s shift. The woman’s intuition was strong and not once would it fail her. It always seemed to increase its potency when emotions or love was in the air. Fred smirked, only to wince as Shaggy finished soaking up the dried blood. 

When Fred had told Daphne he loved her, his body was about as nervous as a quivering mouse. Yet somehow he managed to gather the confidence from his heart and told her. She understood perfectly well and responded in a rather joyous, confident tone which still rang out in his head every so often. Speaking from the heart was a tactic Fred had used multiple times in his life and not once did it fail him. Rather, it strengthened his character and transformed him into the man he was today. Courageous, direct, but kind and he knew that Shaggy could in some way embrace these qualities despite being the scaredy cat he was on cases. He had faith in the man for as long as he knew him since Coolsville and watched him grow into the polite and sweet man that he was. 

“You must speak from the heart, Shaggy. Take her someplace you know she’ll love. Then when the moment’s right, just tell her.”

“But like how will I know when the moment’s right?”

“You’ll feel slightly nauseous.” This was unbelievably true, Fred had experienced that emotion every time he had ever confessed his feelings to a woman. 

While it wasn’t as potent when revealing his heart to Daphne, it was something he knew that Shaggy would feel when telling Velma how he felt. It was an inevitable feeling and he knew that the man’s heart would beat as fast as a hummingbird and that his body wouldn’t allow him to breathe unless he spoke those words. Those words that probably fluttered about his head right now as Fred spoke to him and he smiled. He knew Shaggy would cope with those words and eventually cause them to spill from his mouth like a cascading waterfall while locking eyes with his beloved Velma. He knew Shaggy would dream of the million ways he could say those words, rephrase them for better meaning, and how he would say them and where. Perhaps, he would take Fred’s route of a candlelight dinner, but Fred secretly hoped the man would play to Velma’s interests – Brigton was a few miles away from Jannington, a rather large metropolis that boasted one of the tallest telescopes in the United States. The telescope and the observatory it was housed in was open to the public on a daily basis and offered tours. He knew the man didn’t mind driving and if it was to win (or at least woo) the heart of Velma Dinkley, then he would do anything possible. If Shaggy hadn’t known of Jannington’s specialty, then he would inform him and do his best to help the man succeed in becoming Velma’s boyfriend.

“Will I- Chica?!”

Fred stared into the East Hall doorway where the faint glowing eyes of Chica emerged along with her childish cries and her corpse perfume. Shaggy froze for a moment, the fear of saying those words to Velma being replaced by the sudden question that arose in his head of: what if I never survive this place? What if I die here tonight and fail to see her again? What if I never get to tell her? Those thoughts hadn’t racked his brain before until now and he felt them layering his cranium with worry. He had three more nights to endure and he wasn’t sure how long the power would hold or how he himself would hold up. His sanity hadn’t frayed yet nor did he expect it to, having been exposed to so much throughout the years. This should have been a cakewalk to him, but here he was terrified as though it was his first case all over again. The stakes were much higher now; knowing what was on the line should Shaggy not survive through all five nights. What rested on the line was something he so willingly desired after all this time and was coming to terms that maybe Velma would want it too. A future, together. In a house styled to their likings or in the least a relationship that would carry them beyond the stars and into each other’s hearts. If he did not survive the remaining nights, well then, God only knew what would happen and it was something he didn’t wish to think about as the mere idea made his heart clench tightly.

Fred’s widened eyes watched Chica cock its large, yellow head. The flashlight illuminating its faded yellow frame and giving way to curved teeth stained a faint shade of pink as though it had a fresh kill only hours ago. Judging by how it stared at Shaggy and Fred, it knew what it wanted; its moans growing louder in despair and hunger for the men before it. Lunging forward, Scooby Doo howled loudly like a Viking emitting a war cry and dove before the men. The howl snapped Shaggy to his senses as Fred called out for Scooby to stop growling at Chica. The dog was brave, having nearly lost his head to the mechanical chick before and now he growled at it once more, ready to fight for his friends.

“SCOOBY DON’T! COMEBACK!”

The dog bore his teeth and clicked them at the animatronic who looked at him strangely, as though he were nothing more than a distraction. Chica charged forward and Scooby threw himself at the animatronic, clamping down on its orange knee. Knowing how it hurt his teeth and how his bite did not harm the mechanical monstrosity in the least bit, Scooby knew he had to try. Trying was always good and even if the attempt failed, it was good to know that he at least tried. Maybe it would keep Chica busy and at bay, away from Shaggy and Fred. 

Chica seemed unfazed and easily gripped Scooby with its large wings and hoisted him up once more. Grabbing the already dented fire extinguisher, Shaggy ran once more as Scooby writhed wildly and yowled in pain. Fred’s eyes frantically searched the office for anything to help Shaggy with freeing Scooby from Chica. When he could find nothing in the darkness, he gripped the chair he sat on and proceeded to swing it at Chica’s head. Chica’s teeth pricked the back of Scooby’s neck, causing the canine to terribly yowl. 

“LET HIM GO!” Reasoning with a machine was useless and both the men knew this. Yet they continued to swing as hard as possible at Chica’s head, hoping it would somehow release Scooby Doo. 

From the hall came a loud, thunderous pounding that sounded like someone charging at full speed. Praying it wasn’t Bonnie, Shaggy swallowed hard as he continued to swing hard at Chica’s head. This time the chick knew what it was up against and kicked Shaggy in the leg. Fred on the other hand, whammed the chair at its head even harder as he watched Shaggy fall from the corner of his eye, losing his grip on the extinguisher. The teeth seemed to dig deeper into Scooby’s fur as the dog squirmed uncontrollably and Shaggy raced to his feet, scrambling to get the fire extinguisher. Ramming Fred with a wing, the man fell back into the shadows, tumbling with the chair. Crying out in pain, Shaggy knew he couldn’t worry about him and rushed to assault Chica’s head once more. As much as he cared about Fred, his companion’s life was on the line and putting all his might into his thrusts, he swore Chica began to ease up. Believing this notion, he whammed the extinguisher even harder against Chica’s head.

Foxy’s speedy footsteps sprinted through the office as the animatronic , used its hook to pry Chica’s jaw upward. Using its metallic hand, it pushed one of Chica’s wings off Scooby’s sides. Shaggy threw the extinguisher to the side and gripped the other wing, pulling with all his might until Scooby was free. Scooby was as rigid as a board and slid out with Foxy and Shaggy’s aid and scrambled beneath the desk, whimpering in fear. Chica cocked its head once more, gazing upon Shaggy and moaning sorrowfully as though mourning the loss of a child. Lunging at the man, he fell back against the desk and Foxy harshly pulled the yellow animatronic from him. 

“Se-Se-Selene! Stop!” Andrew’s voice emanated within the animatronic as Chica cried in protest, forcing its strength onto Foxy who trembled and reeled slightly only to regain its balance. Chica refused to give into the fox’s power and unleashed a shrill scream that deafened everyone’s ears and caused them to cringe. Shaggy clung to Scooby Doo, his eyes watching the illuminated orbs of the animatronics wrestle before him. Shakily grabbing the flash light, he shined the light on them, his heart pounding a million miles per minute. 

Quickly flashing the light across the office, he saw Fred hiding behind the chair. Waving at him to assure Shaggy he was all right, Shaggy nodded and quickly shined the light on Foxy and Chica who fought each other before them. Never before had he imagined such a sight as this and he watched intently in case he should have to run with Scooby Doo and Fred. He wasn’t sure if Foxy had spoken to Bonnie, so there was the possible chance Bonnie would attack them. Biting his lower lip, Fred’s eyes never left Foxy and Chica as they threw each other against the wall and tried to keep a firm grip on each other. One seemed stronger than the other as Shaggy hoped with bated breath that Andrew would be able to possess the strength to pin or at least stop Chica. 

“Selene…..! Stop! They….w-want to………heeeeeeeeeeelp us!” This made Chica even more restless as she shrieked like a banshee and thrust Foxy into a darkened door way. Andrew knew Selene was a mixture of restlessness, stubbornness, and anger. Her temper was not one to be tampered with, even with someone of her age. 

“SELENE!”

“WHERE IS MISS BALINE?! SHE WAS HERE EARLIER WITH THEM IN HER ORANGE SWEATER! I NEED TO SEE HER!”

Foxy looked over at Shaggy whose eyes widened and his skin grew pale. There was only one woman who wore an orange sweater in their group. Now he understood why it took Chica so long to register her that night. She was remembering someone from a time before she died and Shaggy figured that Velma probably looked like whoever Miss Baline was. Velma was possibly only Chica’s connection to reality and the only one who could speak to her without possibly being massacred. Chica registered Shaggy, Daphne, Scooby, and Fred as targets and treated them as such. Shaggy swallowed hard at the menagerie of ideas bursting from every section of his brain.

“She…..she,” Shaggy rose from his hiding spot and stuttered, a thousand thoughts flowing into his brain like red rivers. One by one they built up the possibilities inside and rendered his heart silent. Each plausible situation more terrifying than the last in his mind as he tried to swallow his fear. If Chica could swallow or even devour Scooby, the mere idea that Chica would do that to Velma made Shaggy’s spine shudder horribly. Although Chica would want to merely speak with Velma (or Miss Baline as she thought of her as), the notion that Chica’s servos could corrupt horrifically and cause Chica to try and eat Velma rattled Shaggy’s core. Gripping the desk in pure terror, he knew he couldn’t stand to lose Velma and would stop anyone from taking her from him.

“She’s….n-not here….I’ll….I’ll…-“

“He’ll….he’ll bring her………tom-tomorrow, Selene.” Andrew spoke as sternly as possible and the chick stared into Foxy’s mechanical orbs, dropping its wings. Chica’s orbs never left Foxy’s even as it slowly backed away from him.

“She’ll t-talk to…..you. She’ll listen……won’t she?”

Shaggy nodded slowly, slumping against the desk, unable to deny Andrew’s hopeful wish. Velma would be the key to stop Chica from violently attacking and trying to eat Scooby. Maybe she could figure out why she wanted to devour Scooby to begin with. It would greatly aid them with the case, but at what cost should the servos act up? Foxy would be present to prevent such a situation from occurring or so Shaggy and Fred hoped. 

“I’ll….I’ll keep watch….of….the office….til morning…..Chica….they can help us….” Andrew’s childish voice carried through the office as Chica nodded to Shaggy and solemnly left, its eyes never leaving the office. Slinking into the shadows of Fazbear’s, Shaggy watched as Chica was swallowed by the darkness, its glowing eyes still faintly discernable from the office. 

Morning seemed to crawl as Shaggy thought about the evening to come. His third night with a high possibility of losing himself or Velma; something he never wanted to occur from this gig. He patched Fred’s wound up and cleaned the office the best he could and since Foxy and Chica encountered each other, no one else had entered the office. Sometimes, Foxy would pop in and Andrew would check on them, grateful to have someone to speak to regarding his situation. They would willingly speak with him about anything to help pass the time and to learn more of Fazbear’s and Purple Guy and everything else that pertained to this dire case. 

Scooby though seemed unnerved. As though that attack from Chica had finally snapped his sanity and not once did he move from his spot beneath the desk. When Shaggy and Fred called to him, he did not respond as though something was stolen from him. Thankfully, he was not damaged at all from the assault, but something inside seemed harmed. Some shred of his sanity or mentality was injured severely to cause the hound not to speak or even respond to his friends calling his name. Their eyes never left Scooby Doo for what seemed like hours. He didn’t even respond to the few Scooby Snacks Shaggy kept in his pocket in case him or his hound grew hungry. 

“R-Raggy…” Scooby muttered after the shock had rolled from his frame. By now it was a half hour until six. The night was long, but the final stretch was even longer. 

“What is it Scoob?” Shaggy questioned gently, eyes sharply looking to Scooby, relieved that he was finally speaking.

“Ris…ris rame rom Rhica…” in the flashlight’s glow, Shaggy saw something tumble from Scooby’s snout that he hoped he would never see from the animatronic. On the floor before Scooby Doo rested what appeared to be a few withered, miniature baby teeth. There was no way they could have came from Chica’s large, curved teeth. Fred looked at the teeth, not wanting to touch the evidence in fear he should damage them, but from what him and Shaggy saw they felt their hearts drop. This only proved what they had so feared after all this time.

Once more Shaggy felt the world spin and his mind retreat into darkness, the thoughts of losing Velma to Chica, the death scent left behind by the animatronics, and the realization that corpses were in the machines became too much for him. The tile floor felt cold, but refreshing to his back even as he and the world seemed weightless. In his unconscious state, he saw the dreams once more; of the animatronics nearing him and now, Velma. Her smile seemed to break through the mechanical wonders in his head and he swore he saw a mangled child’s head resting inside the parted mouth of Chica who opened her maw wide enough to clamp down on Velma’s head. The mere nightmare gave him a jolt, flicking his eyes open quickly to reality outside of his fainting spell and to the ringing of a chime. The sound called out to Shaggy, ending his shift, and snapping him to his senses as he came in contact with the frightful eyes of Scooby Doo and the worrisome eyes of Fred Jones.


	12. Prelude to Chica

As much as Shaggy wanted to go to sleep, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. His mind was too occupied with the upcoming third shift. Of Selene wanting to speak with Velma and everything that needed to be said and how Chica’s servos could possibly corrupt and devour Velma. As he staggered into the room he shared with Velma, he watched the early rays of light peek through the hotel’s curtains like a child through a closet door. The dawn’s glow combed through Velma’s brown bedhead and rested on her half covered frame. Shaggy smiled at how such a simple light could make someone appear more wonderful than what they already were. Removing a folded tissue from his pocket, he placed it on the table. He made sure to handle the decayed teeth Scooby had found as delicately as he could. He knew Velma would be pleased at how carefully he handled the evidence, but rather disgusted to know that what they had all thought was true. 

Flopping onto his bed, he sat up and heard Scooby Doo find his way to the couch and snuggle in. The dog had endured a long night and Shaggy wondered if it would be safer to leave him here tonight as opposed to bringing him to work and possibly shattering what remained of his sanity. Watching his dog, he sighed to himself. Shaggy wouldn’t know what to do if something had ever happened to Scooby, let alone the rest of the gang. They were a family to him and even he was putting himself at danger regarding this case. He fully understood why Velma had suggested this case and why had everyone went along with it, but now he questioned if they should pursue further. It was too late to turn back, but he wondered just how long everyone’s sanity could hold up in a mystery like this. 

He also wondered what would happen tonight. Selene would speak to Velma, but if the servos corrupted…Shaggy shuddered. Velma could be lost, he could be lost trying to defend her. Foxy would have to be there, hopefully to wrestle with Chica has it did only hours ago. Shaggy would fight for Velma any given day of the week; he had done so before with Chica and he wasn’t afraid to do it again. 

“Velma?” Shaggy called softly and she turned over, not wanting to wake up so soon.

“Velma?” He called in that hushed tone and she rolled over, fishing for her glasses on the nightstand.

“Shaggy? Did you just get in? How was work?” Her voice was groggy, but soft and that made Shaggy’s heart tremble gently. Sleep clustered in the corner of her eyes and he smirked. He had seen her like this many nights before but now, it seemed different. In a way, she seemed much cuter than before. 

“Y-yeah, I just got in. Are you and Daphne going to like interview anyone today?”

“Yes, we were seeing….uh, I think one of the girls who vanished….her name was….Selene, I believe.” Velma spoke wearily, her vision adjusting to see Shaggy in his uniform. 

“Like you also gotta see a woman named Miss Baline for Selene.” 

Velma cocked her head in confusion, moving herself so that she sat on the side of her bed. Orange pajamas clung to her as crimson swirls dotted the fabric. 

“Miss….Baline?”

Shaggy regaled Velma with the events of the hours before he stumbled through their hotel room. Of how Velma was supposedly seen as Miss Baline in Selene’s eyes and how she would speak to no one, but Velma. Of how the soul of Selene was trapped inside Chica and how she was possibly one of the missing children. Of how Velma should interview Selene’s parents and Miss Baline as well to figure out Selene’s connection with the mystery woman. Of how Andrew resided within Foxy and how he spoke to Fred and how in turn, Foxy defended the office throughout the night until dawn when it crawled back into Pirate Cove. Of what Scooby found inside Chica’s head with the possible notion that an entire, brutal mangled cadaver rested within. Of how Shaggy recorded every single thing that the night had to offer before Scooby was attacked by Chica. With every detail, Velma felt the sleepiness shake from her form as her jaw dropped in pure astonishment and she quietly wished that she had been there for everything. With her mind blown, she struggled to search through the cogs and find words to explain what she was thinking let alone feeling. The ideas rushed through her skull like a tsunami and slowly she tried to piece everything together. 

“Fred….Andrew…Andrew had an uncle named Fred who told him pirate stories….jinkies! Andrew must have thought our Fred was his uncle! Or…wait!” Grabbing her phone, Shaggy smiled as he watched her fingers speed along the keyboard of her phone, her glasses reflecting the glow of the screen. He couldn’t make out what those screens told her, but he knew it was something that would help her. After what seemed like minutes, he watched as her eyes widen even farther than what they had grown and her slack jaw expression slowly transition into a grin of confidence and intelligence. 

“Spirits have been known to connect with something or someone that reminds them of their life before they died. This thing or person they connect with, they establish a strong connection with it until they feel as though they’re ready to pass on. Of course! That makes sense! ”

“So maybe…Selene sees you as Miss Baline and will like speak to you to try and get a connection so she can like pass on?”

“If it’ll help this case and Selene to pass on, then I’ll do it.” Velma assured herself of this and looked at the time. 6:16 am. Two more hours until her alarm chimed. In the morning glow, Shaggy looked rather exhausted from the night before and smiling softly, Velma knew it would be best to let him rest. Even she too needed some sleep, her mind rattling in conjunction with her heart with the talk she had had with Daphne. 

Let him come to you. Those words rang out in her head and in knowing this, she knew she would have to wait. She quickly wrote her theory and research on a piece of scrap paper before asking how Shaggy was holding up. Not wanting to scare her, he informed her that he was as fine as a well aged cheese and she laughed softly. 

She had only seen the animatronics act up on the first night and something triggered in her head. Of worrying that Shaggy would never come to her and confess his feelings for her because Chica’s servos could act up. That wouldn’t happen right? If Selene easily recognized Velma and attempted to make contact with her, then there would be no reason for Chica to grow ruthless and reckless and attack her. Yet there was always the possibility of what if. It was a chance that she always fumbled with through all her work and cases and unless there was a panacea to whatever what if was present, then she would not be satisfied. The possibility of Chica’s servos violently acting up was a seemingly low chance and though it may not be preventable due to the old machinery within, Velma knew she would have to exercise the utmost of caution especially tonight.

Shaggy would be there though and she knew without hesitation that he would defend her just as she would defend him. That aided in relieving her heart some slightly, causing a small smile to burst on her face despite the lingering fear of Chica going haywire. 

Placing her notes next to the teeth, Velma returned her bed. She would have much to research this afternoon and even prior before she could locate and meet with Selene’s parents. Shaggy quickly showered and wore nothing but a pair of boxers as he climbed into bed. Hurriedly falling asleep, Velma smiled to herself. She always loved him in those heart imprinted boxers. Having seen them on him before throughout the years, she wondered how many pairs of those boxers he had and if he wore them for her pleasure. Blushing madly at that thought, she curled up on herself before falling back to sleep. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Selene Ronza lived near the downtown section of Brigton in a rather luxurious complex. Photographs revealed a little girl with dark brown hair and amber eyes in her father or mother’s arms. In some of the photos, the mother presented a rather large stomach as though expecting a little someone. Yet Fred found it strange how photos after the pregnant wife bore a rather thin stomach and a somber smile. Selene was older, so there was no way the pictures could be taken prior to the pregnancy. Daphne bit her lip and Velma gasped softly, knowing what had occurred and felt her heart pang even harder than before.

To lose two children – one by whatever means (most likely a miscarriage) and the other by kidnapping was possibly the ultimate heartbreaking and life draining situation to ever arise. Velma and Daphne couldn’t imagine the internal suffering the parents had endured through these situations and quietly sympathized with them, daring not to ask about the pictures. 

Her mother and father were incredibly calm about the whole, but Daphne often caught a glimpse of Mrs. Ronza swallowing her sorrow and tears. Her expressions fluctuating between tranquility and pain ridden, as though someone repeatedly stabbed her while she spoke. Mr. Ronza on the other hand, dug his nails into his meaty palms as though restraining a punch. They presented every single trace of information and evidence they could offer which wasn’t much; the Ronzas having snuck into Fazbear’s only once after dark. They thought their timing and sleek movements could gain them more access to the restaurant’s secrets as opposed to when it was open. But when Mr. Ronza had been approached by Chica, he unintentionally screamed causing Mike Schmidt to call the police and detain him and his wife for sneaking onto closed property. When they explained their reason for stealthily lurking about Fazbear’s after dark, the police rolled their eyes and issued a restraining order. Mr. Ronza had even screamed at the officer that the animatronics were up and roaming about. His wife shrieked with him which made the officials question their sanity and ignored their cries, believing that no such situation could happen. 

The couple gained nearly the same information as Andrew’s family had albeit with a different story of how their daughter was taken away. Sometime during late June, Selene had a softball game. Her parents couldn’t make it due to their jobs, but informed Selene that she should either try to get a ride home with one of the other parents or wait for her mother and father at Fazbear’s. Fazbear’s was a mere five minute walk away from the softball field and Selene had walked to the pizzeria before, grabbing a quick slice of pizza while waiting for her parents to retrieve her. Before she could ask anyone for a ride, they had left her alone on the field or avoided her for her missing the final home run that would defeat the neighboring town’s team. To make matters worse, it started to heavily downpour. The only time the Ronzas had ever heard from Selene was a mere phone call on a pay phone outside of Fazbear’s. The police were able to trace the call to this location, but after this, Mrs. and Mr. Ronza had no idea what had happened. None of the parents, coaches, or players saw where she roamed off to. Not even the staff of Fazbear’s claimed to have seen her. 

When Velma had mentioned Miss Baline, Mrs.Ronza broke like a glass vase and Mr. Ronza held her tightly. All the tears that the mother had swallowed regurgitated through her fierce, bright brown eyes. Rushing down her reddened cheeks, the tears were warm with self-anger and self-detestation for knowing she should have taken off from work and none of this would have happened. Hiding her face beneath her long, tumbling curls of ebony hair, Mrs. Ronza wailed loudly like Chica in Fazbear’s. It was a cry that no other mother could ever have and it seemed to shake the air around the couple. It was a shrieking plea, asking celestial forces why they had forsaken her and stole her two children away. Her husband bit harshly on his lower lip, biting back any tears that collected in the corners of his eyes and asking why, why fate had decided to take their children from them when they had never ever done anything wrong in their lives. They were good people who wanted nothing but the best for their children, Mr. Ronza having owned a rather popular restaurant chain that bloomed in Brigton and stretched across the nation. They could have easily moved away, but they enjoyed the quiet life of luxury that Brigton offered. He had accrued enough money to send Selene to the finest schools Brigton offered and give her anything her heart desired. The Ronzas were practically set for life until Selene was stolen from them as well as her future sibling.

Miss Baline was possibly the only friend Selene had ever had. Selene was the stubborn, tomboyish player of Brigton’s softball team. Her personality often drove the other members away, causing them to falter in maintaining a friendship with her or even speak to her. She would be made fun of from time to time, despite having one fantastic right arm for pitching. Miss Baline was Selene’s fifth grade teacher at Brigton Elementary who specialized in science and often supported Selene in her ambitions. Science was one of Selene’s favorite subjects other than math and not once did the girl hesitate to miss a class. While she wasn’t too fond of the math teacher for always picking on the popular kids, Miss Baline wormed her way into Selene’s heart. Sometimes Miss Baline would join Selene for lunch and show up at her games to cheer Selene on when her parents couldn’t make it.

After interviewing the Ronzas, Velma, Daphne, and Fred ventured to Miss Baline who was finishing her lessons for the day. She was a rather tall woman who took the pleasure to dress her very best for the job in a silk blouse and slacks. As she erased the board, she held her calm disposition in asking why the trio had appeared before her. When they informed her of their reason, her demeanor collapsed like a breaking wave. Throwing her arms tightly around herself, Miss Baline pressed her forehead against the wash board. Sobbing to herself, she spoke jaggedly, her voice rough with regret and apologies for missing Selene’s game. She could have sworn it wasn’t that Friday in late June and that it was moved to another time due to the oncoming downpour the day had to offer. She didn’t go. She hadn’t heard or seen Selene for days on end and even after the police couldn’t locate her, Miss Baline wondered if all hope was lost. She scrounged through the articles in a desperate attempt to gain any word on Selene. She even ventured to Fazbear’s to gain any information and found nothing. Her sobs transformed to pleading cries begging for forgiveness from some higher up deity whose power stretched over humanity. Tossing her hands onto her desk as fists, her body wracked just like Selene’s parents and through the tears she spoke of Selene. Of how wonderful she was in class and how she was incredibly kind once Miss Baline grew close to her. Of how she could easily solve problems that were beyond her comprehension level and how that in the Fall she could transfer into an Honors Science course with ease and Miss Baline would support her all the way.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, Shaggy showed up to his shift on time and was met with the quaking stature of Carl. In his hands grasped the dented fire extinguisher and Shaggy felt a vile sense of dislike for the man power through his lanky frame. Shaggy normally got along with people, but Carl was fishy and shady since the day this case started. Since that day Carl provided no answers, answered no questions, and told them nothing of Fazbear’s or its history. He never even acknowledged the rumors of the Internet and what had possibly occurred at the pizzeria. He had thrown Shaggy into the dark mystery that was Fazbear’s without so much a clue or guide to help him survive.

Watching the man with surprised eyes (Shaggy hadn’t expected Carl to be here at all and that like the past two nights he would sulk out of the pizzeria or be gone before Shaggy even appeared), he bit his lower lip, not wanting to cause an uproar or fight. Though he knew that it couldn’t be avoided with how red Carl’s cheeks were from the anger seething within him. Scooby crouched beneath the office window, not wanting to cause his owner more trouble with Carl.

“What the fuck, Norville?!” Carl presented Shaggy with a beaten in fire extinguisher, his short frame trembling with pent up rage. Shaggy watched the chubby man grip the fire extinguisher and it quake slightly, his fury pouring into the object as veins protruded from his frame.

“Sir, it was attacking my friend!“

Shaggy was one to never stand up to authoritative figures. He was polite and always did what he was told, but in some situations he had to bend the rules. He had bended his golden rule with the hunters trying to harm Crystal and many other situations when it took internal strength to overcome obstacles that could not be remedied with kindness. Normally, Shaggy didn’t mind embracing that inner strength when scenarios arose and much like now, his heart thrummed with anger and confusion Carl had instilled upon him. He could feel it spread throughout his body like jam on bread and cause his heart to accelerate, restraining words he wished he could say to the man before him.

“I told you to get rid of that mutt!”

“Then tell me like why they’re attacking! And like why they-“ 

“Also, what the Hell did you do to Chica?! The technician had a hard time getting those dents out, Norville! It’ll be coming out of your pay! It’s incredible Chica still works after the dents you put in her…”

“Carl-“

“Sir!” Carl snapped.

“Sir, I would like to know what happened.” Shaggy’s voice was as firm as a rock. It bore no sympathy, but instead a seriousness that Carl had not heard since the health inspector recently made his rounds. It was a tone that enraged Carl and caused him to speak in a deathly, straight line of a voice. Never changing rhythm or pitch, the shorter man locked eyes with the tall night guard. Words leaking through gritted teeth, he used the extinguisher as his anchor to restrain him from full on screaming in Shaggy’s face.

“That’s none of your concern, Norville. We’ll be closing any way in two days. You’re just the night guard til then.”

“Why are you closing?”

“The same reason why you and every other parent are here : you want to find the missing children. You all want to play detective and find out what happened to them. Plus the Board of Health is shutting this place down and business has been slow since the kids went missing.”  
Shaggy knew why the Board of Health would order a closing on this place and why business had been slow. Neither factor surprised him and something inside was happy that Fazbear’s was closing, hoping that no more children would suffer at the hands of Purple Guy and the other terrors this place offered. He only hoped that they would be able to solve the case by the final night or at least free the spirits.

Carl sneered at Shaggy as he threw down the fire extinguisher, landing with a rather loud clang on the tiled floor. Not once did Shaggy return his stare in knowing what he would be met with and looked straight forward, into the darkness where Chica would emerge from the East Hall door way.


	13. The Angry Bird

So far two things were incredible this evening. The first being how much Velma looked like Ms. Baline, the teacher who Selene had a close attachment to before her untimely demise at Fazbear’s. It was something that the teacher hadn’t noticed at first because she was cleaning the blackboard and terribly sobbing as she recalled Selene’s demise. But once her vision was clear, she looked up and swore she was staring at a mirror. It was said that there were duplicates of people in the world and while Velma and Ms. Baline did know this, they never believed it up until this moment. The only difference between the two was that Ms. Baline’s face wasn’t speckled with freckles. Thankfully, Daphne could easily Velma’s freckles up with make up.

The second incredible event was that Shaggy did not get fired. One would believe that after damaging an animatronic, destroying fire extinguishers out of self defense, and allowing a dog on premise especially after hours would be enough to get the man expelled from his job. Yet the notion of Fazbear’s closing in a few days had sealed the deal for Shaggy in that it would be pointless for him to be fired. Rather, Carl believed it would be best for Shaggy to ride out the remaining shifts until the official closing of Freddy Fazbear’s. It was a logical decision that Shaggy had agreed with, but his heart still wished he could be excused from this position. The ghastly scents were making his head spin, the evidence of children in the machines (except for Foxy) was enough to give him nightmares, and even Phone Guy’s messages had him terrified of what was in store for the evening.

Once more, Shaggy listened to a message from a man he might not ever meet. He wondered what Phone Guy looked like and how long ago were these messages recorded. Shaggy had only ever entered Fazbear’s at night since he started working here and not once did he see anyone other than himself, Scooby Doo, and Carl. While he mostly heard Carl scampering away into the safe haven of the world outside Fazbear’s, he wondered if there was another man. Someone calling from a faraway place who knew Shaggy was working here and leaving him warnings. He wondered if he should ask Carl who this Phone Guy was and where he was and why he was leaving messages for Shaggy. Clearly, Carl had to know about Phone Guy, after all he knew about the messages. There had to be a connection between the two or so Shaggy believed. His train of thought derailed when he heard Phone Guy proclaim that things were getting real this night. Eyes widening, Shaggy swallowed hard as he towered over the crimson device. Alerted ears listened to Phone Guy’s idea of possibly playing dead and how the plan would catastrophically fail and how Shaggy should avoid doing that at all costs. He finished the message with claiming that he would see Shaggy on the flip side. Would he ever really see Phone Guy on the flip side and if so, how and where?

“Like how can it get any more real?!” Shaggy shrieked only to be met with a low, rumbling laughter from the door way. His head slowly turned to the East Hall where a brown bear animatronic stared at him with lifeless eyes. By now Shaggy’s skin was as pale as a ghost, but at the sight of Freddy Fazbear it turned as white as the moon on a clear evening.

“Zoinks! Like who activated Freddy!?”

Scooby Doo threw himself to the door switch, his paw slamming the button, creating a metallic divide between Freddy and his master. Not even signed in yet and already the night was turning into a chaotic dream that Shaggy could not be awoken from. As he examined the cameras, his heart slowed into a deathly pound. A pound for each camera view his eyes fell upon, as though each glance could be his last. Relief wormed its way into his beating chest to find that Foxy still lingered in Pirate Cove and knew that the prior night’s experiences would aid him greatly. He knew that Foxy wouldn’t attack him, knowing full well the secrets of the ghost that rested within the cogs, and how he established a connection with Fred Jones. He knew this connection would guarantee Shaggy safety as he turned his attention to the camera that focused on the Stage area. The first thing that appeared within the screen was Bonnie. Nearly dropping the monitor, Shaggy quickly regained his grip on the device as he stared at the animatronic who seemingly stared through the lens as though the camera was never there. The lifeless eyes of the purple rabbit were eerie and cold, silently demanding answers that Shaggy was still trying to understand. He would have to talk to Velma tonight or tomorrow morning and ask her what she had known that she hadn’t had the chance to tell him. Perhaps it would quell Bonnie’s stare and stalker mannerisms that made Shaggy forget how to breathe. 

Biting his lower lip, his fingers shakily switched to the Backstage and Bathroom cameras to find nothing which made him suddenly question the whereabouts of Chica. No sound emerged from the Kitchen section and flicking on the light switch to the East Hall, Chica’s eyes greeted him with a fearsome glare. Falling back from the desk, the chair caught him in a comfortable, but temporary security. His eyes never left the window and the light dimmed and brightened with every passing second, causing his heartbeat to quicken, the fear taking hold of him. His breathing increased as he stared into the unfeeling, unfriendly glare of Chica and knew what rested inside that animatronic. From what emerged on Scooby Doo when his head was snugly rammed into that bulbous yellow head, Shaggy knew that the corpse of Selene was beyond distorted inside Chica. Gripping the chair tightly, he knew that he had to embrace this dismal reality like a sickly parasite. He knew this place would haunt his dreams for days, but if it was to release children from their mechanical prisons, then it would be worth it or so he hoped. Locking eyes with Chica, he observed its still movement, standing by the window as though expecting a miracle. No miracles would emerge that he knew of, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to escape the Office to let Velma and Fred in. Only then could the events of this dark night unfurl and possibly Selene’s soul would be put to rest. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, snapping him from Chica’s ominous stare. Quickly taking the device in his hand, he sighed in relief. Fred and Velma were at the back door and were ready to come in whenever Shaggy was ready. Once more, Shaggy searched through the cameras and found Bonnie still leering at the lens, sparking the fear in his heart again. Foxy tore through the West Hall, his footsteps resounding through the premises and before Shaggy could even turn his head, the pirate fox stood at the West Hall doorway. Staring at him with glowing eyes, Andrew’s voice emerged from the figure.

“You’re…..you’re here…….friend….friend of Fred….will he be coming?”

Shaggy sighed in relief, it was good to have allies in various places. A weary smile formed on his ivory shaded face and his heart murmured, finding even more comfort than he had before. But the night was only beginning and there was far much more to experience let alone do. 

“Yeah. I like got to let him in through the back door.” 

Through the Office, Foxy locked eyes with Chica. Andrew knew how Selene was, especially when imprisoned inside an inescapable suit. She was restless and stubborn, wanting an out with none in sight. To make matters worse, she had endured the treatment as Andrew had. Attempting to communicate with her parents or friends and failing at every chance; Andrew knew it wasn’t an easy endeavor and how her cries seemed to grow louder with every passing night. She could unleash her emotions through a crackling voice box, clogged with dust from over the years and her mangled corpse. Andrew knew that tonight would hopefully be the night where Selene could cope or at least be able to tell her story and in knowing this, Foxy turned to Shaggy.

“I’ll….I’lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll-,” Andrew caused Foxy to bang the voice box. “I’ll hold Chica off.”

Freddy quickly slithered through the dim shadows behind Chica. Its strange, spine tingling stare peered through the gaps between the window and Chica’s frame, analyzing its new target. Shaggy was fast, though appeared to be easy prey. During the nights that Freddy stared through the lens on stage, the animatronic attempted to study his movements. The brown bear had seen Shaggy leave the Office and some nights he would return with friends. The one in purple seemed rather familiar; her dress was much darker than Bonnie’s frame, but that wasn’t it. Freddy didn’t get a good look at her of all the times she emerged in the night. When she had popped in during the day, Freddy swore she was from somewhere else. This attempt at recognition was eliminated by the onslaught of children to which Freddy’s guard dropped and was replaced with a welcoming aura towards those who wished to dance and sing with the bear.

“Like what about Bonnie?”

“Bonnie…..Bonnie seems…….like….they kn-know you…..and….and is…..trying….to figure….out…..how….Bonnie…will not fi….fight you.”

A brief wave of relief washed over Shaggy as he remembered to breathe and slunk into the chair. His feet rooted into the floor, he knew that with Bonnie lost in a memory searching trance and Chica at the window, now would be his opportunity to let Velma and Fred in. Freddy, Shaggy wasn’t sure how fast the bear was. It seemed pretty quick akin to Foxy’s speed and he wondered if he would be able to outrun such a fearsome mechanical monster. Shaggy also questioned if Foxy could manage to fend off Freddy and Chica at the same time, Chica being a far more aggressive animatronic than Shaggy could ever imagine. Freddy, Shaggy hadn’t seen much of its power, but the man believed that it too was as strong as Chica if not far more potent. The mechanical beasts surpassed any human strength that Shaggy knew of and he knew that fighting it off wouldn’t be successful. He found it miraculous that he could keep Chica at bay and wouldn’t count it against the bird that it was angered for being whacked with a fire extinguisher. Then again, he wouldn’t blame Selene or Chica for being attacked even if it was to defend himself and his friends. 

Foxy’s eyes never left Chica, even as it sprinted from the Office. If Shaggy were to open the steel door, then Chica would not waste any time in barging in. Scooby had known the drill by now and taking the helm of monitors and lights, he turned off the East Hall light. Shaggy’s feet quickly followed Foxy, his eyes searching through the dark. He knew it would be too risky to bring a flash light to draw attention to himself especially on this now when things were getting real. Listening to Foxy’s feet as they distanced themselves from Shaggy, he believed that the animatronic was running off to fend off Chica or at least talk to them. If logic failed, then surely fists or restraint would work just as well. Tearing through the darkness of the kitchen, Shaggy’s eyes guided him through the shadows. He swore that after all these years his eyes were accustomed to searching and travelling through dark places. That skill had come in handy, especially now as his fingers fumbled for the keys in his pocket. Their soft jingle reverberated throughout the quietness of the pizzeria and he took a sharp intake of breath out of fear that Freddy would hear him and give chase. Hurriedly fishing the keys out and poking through the shadows to find the key hole, his whole body seemed to shake with nervousness and fear. Peering through the dark, his fingers and keys felt for the keyhole. Swallowing hard, a surge of hope and relief tore through him at the notion that he would see Velma.

He hadn’t seen Velma since that morning and only briefly when he was leaving for work. She had saved him some food complete with a little note signed with a heart that made his very own heart flutter. Yet he wondered what that heart had implied and if it was a small flirtatious gesture. This made him then question if she had felt something for him, even if it was as miniature crush. To bring it up would be abrupt and Shaggy wasn’t the type of person to blast assumptions; if there was anything he had learned from Mystery Inc (especially from Velma) it was that research and facts were key to information. In regard to love, nothing could be guessed. Facts were important there especially to save one from heartache or a broken heart. Shaggy had easily cliqued with those who wished to pursue a relationship with them, but he found that after dating them and studying their body language was he able to comfortably make a move. After all, it was the gentlemanly way to subtly make the first move and only if the partner was all right with it.

Finding the keyhole, he flung open the door to reveal Fred and Velma leaning against the wall. What they were discussing, Shaggy did not know. The half moon ignited the sky with thousands of ivory freckles, yet none of them compared to – wait.

“Velma! Like where’s your freckles?”

Yes, Shaggy was in a hurry to keep Foxy from possibly being injured. Yes, Shaggy knew that time was dire and of the essence in this situation, but none of that seemed to matter. Velma’s freckles were a staple of her appearance that he could never forget. He had seen them even in his childhood, how they dotted her face, and how they added a certain depth to her that separated her from the plain Janes of the world. To not see them now was something rather almost troubling and curious and he swore that a crimson hue replaced the missing freckles. While the blush was sweet and soft like a melted piece of taffy, those freckles were a key feature that he suddenly seemed to sorely miss.

For him to notice was enough to make her heart stammer and silence. The quietness was almost alarming, but Velma didn’t seem to care. The question echoed in her mind as though someone yelled across the Grand Canyon, the sound spanning for miles without end. Velma swallowed her heart as it tried to worm its way up her throat, wanting to leap from her mouth, and fling itself at Shaggy. Her heart had thrown a chunk of itself at him earlier today when she left the little heart on the note for him, despite Daphne’s wisdom. It was something strange that was happening to her and while she knew it was a chemical reaction, it sent her body and mind into a dizzying array of giddiness and impatience that she had known before. She knew how to control it, but she supposed that this one time she could give her heart what it so desired. Daphne had warned her not to be desperate and pushy and that men often detested that, but by no means did she consider this tiny action as a feat of neediness.

Her cheeks were growing cherries that were only accentuated by her orange sweater. The warmth radiated throughout her body like a fever that couldn’t be cured unless by means of confession. Now was not the time or place to confess or speak of love or tender words to a man that she was uncertain of how he felt towards her. Velma allowed her hair to collect at her cheeks in an attempt to hide her rosy face.

“Ms.Baline didn’t have freckles. So Daphne helped me hide them for meeting Selene.” Velma spoke as calmly and as clearly as possible as Fred grinned, now further understanding the situation before him. He wouldn’t reveal Shaggy’s secret to Velma, but rather kept his lips sealed with a smile as slender as a moon phase. 

Velma figured that Chica’s systems were a bit rusty to not recognize the freckles on her face or other minor details from a few nights ago. Otherwise, Chica would have noted the freckles and believed that Velma wasn’t Ms. Baline. For once, Velma was thankful for slightly malfunctioning systems. 

“Oh.” Shaggy nodded in understanding. If it was anything to free or ease these spirits, then it would help them greatly. Offering his hand, Velma took it without hesitation believing that it would be safer for her to stay between Fred and Shaggy in case something should arise. Fred took her other hand and Shaggy led them into the void of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. 

Even in the dark, Shaggy felt the eyes of Freddy Fazbear stare at them, studying their movements, planning the perfect moment to strike. Sharply turning to the East Hall, he heard Selene and Andrew screaming at each other with roars of anger and reasoning. Shaggy knew he had to hurry and picking up his pace, Velma nearly tripped and fell into his back, not expecting the sudden change. The brief smell of his faint cologne filled her nostrils and made her head spin as though she were on a tilt a whirl. She hadn’t smelled his perfume before and wondered now, why, of all times was she suddenly noticing it even though she very well knew the answer. The low rumble of Freddy Fazbear made them realize that they were not alone and now was not the time to think of sweet things such as love. Tightening her grip on his hand, Shaggy smiled softly to himself knowing she was there for him. Reassurance was always needed especially in mysteries no matter how terrifying and gruesome and this was no exception. Though now that they had been spotted by Fazbear, Shaggy knew they had to take to the Office and fast. Sprinting across the Dining Hall, Velma and Fred were able to keep up without hesitation, knowing what was at stake if they didn’t. 

Foxy had heard the clatter of feet on the tile of the Dining Area. Fading down the West Hall, Chica caught onto the noise and struggled to be freed from Foxy’s restraint to chase after them. Shrieking in protest, Foxy snarled and tightened his grip as best as possible on the writhing yellow bird. Andrew rooted the animatronic’s feet into the ground, calling Selene’s name to snap some sense into her. Thrashing the avian body about caused Andrew to yell even louder while Freddy and Bonnie did nothing more than watch the situation before them. Selene mustered the strength her soul possessed and pushed Foxy to the wall while trying to slip away. As she concentrated her might on Foxy, she yelled loudly, demanding to see Ms.Baline, and that the night guard should bring her. 

Selene’s shrieks and wants sent shivers down Velma’s spine. Shaggy grit his teeth, knowing he had to brave for Velma as well as himself. What would occur tonight he did not know, but he would defend Velma with his very life should something terrible arise. Tearing through the opened Office door, Shaggy pulled Fred and Velma into his temporary secure sanctuary. Scooby’s eyes never left the monitor and was shivering beneath the desk in fear of what was happening outside the East Hall. Clinging to the monitor as though his life depended on it, Scooby peered over the screen only to find that Shaggy, Velma, and Fred stood before him. Chica and Foxy still screamed and shrieked terribly as he sunk even farther back into the desk’s security. None of them could blame the canine for being so scared and if Shaggy wasn’t being brave for Velma, then he would probably be hiding beneath that desk as well. Whipping out his phone, his fingers trembled some but he was ready to record the conversation with Chica. Fred slammed the door switch to the West Hall, not throwing caution to the wind in case something should occur. If Chica lunged, then he would open the West Hall and escape with Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby. Hopefully Foxy would aid in fending Chica off, though Fred believed that Foxy would do so.

“ANDREW!” Fred called out from within the Office and Andrew stopped yelling. Selene fell to silence, snarling beneath her breath wanting nothing more than to be freed from her prison and to speak with an old friend. The restaurant was blanketed in a field of tension that seemed to spark from Chica and wrap its way into the Office and spill through the Dining Hall, Backstage, and even the Stage area. Velma bit her cheek, feeling the tension weigh heavily on her shoulders, knowing very well that her interaction with Chica could gain or lose another ally in this mystery, and to keep Shaggy safe as Foxy was doing.

“WE HAVE MS. BALINE!” Fred swore he felt as though he were the negotiator in a hostage situation. His voice faltered in his words, his act of courageousness slowly dwindling. 

“ **LET ME SEE HER!** ” Selene cried out in frustration and anger as it seethed from her mechanical frame like toxic ooze spilling from some fatal source.

“PLEASE CALM DOWN! YOU’RE SCARING HER!” Fred shouted over once more and Velma swallowed the fear that had constructed itself in her stomach and throat. A deathly silence mingled with the restaurant and if Velma listened closely, she could hear the harsh wheezing of Chica’s voice box before it descended into a soft wail. They knew they were dealing with children and Selene seemed reckless and ruthless, not knowing how to calm herself, but given her situation it was understandable. An unexpected murdered child wanting to see someone to connect with and possibly free herself from an undeserved prison; it was easy to comprehend Selene’s emotions.

The wailing gradually shifted into a low, heart wrenching moan and Velma knew that was better than Selene’s screaming. Fred took this as a sign that Selene had calmed herself in this moment of hopeful relief, even as the stench of death arose from within Fazbear’s. Mucus and blood smells blocked out Shaggy’s sweet cologne that Velma tried to retain in her nose, only to cringe at this new cadaverous cologne as Fred neared the door switch. Shaggy stared at the East Hall door, ideas of what Chica would do once that door opened filled his head with dread. The familiar smell meant nothing to him, even it made his stomach curl in disgust. Velma was far more important and he didn’t want the visions in his head to unfurl before him and if they did, he would rather be the one to take the brunt of the attacks. His mind theorized Chica lunging at Velma, chewing her soft frame like a wad of gum, her body instantly mashed and mangled, joining Selene. Ideas arose of Chica screaming and scaring Velma even more and how he would act as the divider to separate them. He knew Velma could be strong, he had seen it before. In a situation like this though, he wasn’t certain how long she could support herself. He wouldn’t run the risk, not tonight. Shaggy felt his spine tingle with the stories his head spun of how Chica would possibly harm Velma and staring at the door, he firmly planted his feet to the floor.

Velma watched as Shaggy took his place and smiled softly. His reassurance and protectiveness were what she needed and she knew how brave he could be. For God’s sake, the man managed to instantly learn how to operate a forklift just to save his alien girlfriend from unwanted harassment. Velma knew he could be brave when he wanted to be, especially if it was someone he truly cared for. Wait a minute then, did that mean –

Fred released the door switch and Chica rolled its large head upward. From its eyes, seemingly fresh blood rolled from down and onto to the cheeks, blending with the orange beak. From its agape mouth, the same stream of blood slithered down the neck, and onto the ‘Let’s Eat’ bib. Fred stared into the glowing animatronic’s eyes as Shaggy watched Foxy release Chica. The yellow bird stumbled forth as though stuck in some trance, a strange sorrow filled moan spilling from its mouth. Velma paled in the blink of an eye and the scent of blood surrounded her like a transparent fog. Shaggy reached his hand backward, offering it to Velma for some sort of solace, but her eyes were too focused on Chica to even take notice. Fred stepped aside, watching Foxy from the corner of his eye.

“Miss…Baline…..” a child’s voice broke from the pitiful moans and uttered that name through Chica’s orange beak.

“….why…..WHY DIDN’T YOU COME?!” The sorrowful little girl changed from to a stern and sinister spirit within seconds as Velma gripped Shaggy’s hand. Shaggy’s spine straightened, his hardened eyes swirling with concern for Velma and fear of the arising situation before him.

“Selene,” Velma spoke calmly, swallowing the child’s name like a bitter pill. She would not let fear get the best of her, not now, not when they were so close.

“Selene….I…,” Velma started again in the same tone. “I..I thought it was a different day.”

“YOU ALWAYS KNEW IT WAS THAT DAY!”

“It was going to downpour, I was certain the team wouldn’t play.”

A soft sob erupted from Chica’s voice box and that lowly moan of pain began to work within the cogs, out through the beak, and plunging the office into a solemn silence. The only sound made by anyone or anything was Selene as the voice box crackled, causing her sorrowful moans to sound like cries of pain. No one breathed, no one blinked, no one even trembled at the mere sight of Chica. They knew what she was buried beneath those cogs and wirings and metal. They knew what had become of her and if one peered closely into her jaw, they would see something to make their hearts stop for what would seem like eternity. Velma and Scooby had only received a glimpse of what lied inside the Chica animatronic and both knew that it would only be worse if they pried open the suit. Even Shaggy had nightmares of what stagnantly lied inside the mechanical frame, having seen a sneak peek of a child’s decaying tooth from that particular suit. The mere thought of that rotting corpse inside the animatronic made his stomach swirl with sick and he swallowed hard, doing his best not to think about it. 

“Tell me Selene…..what happened?” Velma asked gently, as Selene stared directly at Velma as though she said a terrible curse word. Allowing the question to register in her mind, Selene knew that this was the night that someone would hear her tale of being stuck inside Freddy Fazbear’s on a rainy evening with nowhere to go and no one to call. This would be a weight lifted from her shoulders, temporarily, until her soul could fully escape the prison she was forced into. She would cherish the notion that someone, especially someone familiar was here, listening to them, and maybe she could relay a message to her parents. Though with her story would come pain of remembering everything that had occurred, but for this, it would be worth it.

Chica nodded in response and Velma’s pupils dilated, rapt with attention. She loved a good ghost story.


	14. Avian Wrath

“Well…..,you know what happened.” Selene started abruptly with arrogance in her tone, casting the glowing animatronic’s eyes to the floor. Velma arched an eyebrow, watching her movement and wondering why she looked away as though she had done something unforgivably wrong. Everyone knew what had occurred wasn’t Selene’s fault, but rather the sick intent of a free criminal. Even so, Selene still felt guilty as the animatronic’s shoulders sagged as though weighed down by transparent sand bags.

“But…then….well, it was raining.” Her voice turned bitter at the weather condition and she seemingly hissed. “And I came in here until it died down, I….I figured I’d wait for them in here.”

The camera monitor flickered to the dining area as Chica’s eyes seemed to examine that room. It had always been so dark especially at night, but now it seemed darker, hiding secrets that no one except for her and the other children knew. Of what exactly happened to those who vanished at Fazbear’s, of where the bodies were hidden, of how everyone was so brutally murdered, but none of them understood why. They were children after all and children tend to have extensive imaginations and greater understanding than some of the adults in the world. To know why they were each individually murdered at this one place though was a mystery that not even their imaginations could decipher. Yes, they very well knew that there were bad and good people in this great wide world. Yes, they were taught the ‘stranger danger’ sound off when someone attempted to touch them wrongly or when someone they didn’t like drew near. Yes, the world was big and scary, but also wondrous and inviting, but the idea of someone so dangerous being at a place they so dearly adored was enough to still shake their souls even in death.

The monitor transitioned to the backstage area where Chica slowly stepped away from the screen as though it were toxic. The voice box crackled with static and through the white noise came Selene’s dreadful moans in protests and fear as to what the screen showed her. Freddie heads, a bare endoskeleton, shelves of eyeless animatronic heads, to Shaggy and the others who had explored that area it was probably nothing. But to her, it made her rotting intestines turn swiftly as though someone was putting a drill to her organs without a break. 

Velma’s eyes widened as she looked between the screen and Chica as the yellow bird reeled backwards. What was going through Selene’s head, Velma or anyone else did not know. Velma waited and watched as the large yellow bird stumbled on the tile, quietly seeking for some sort of escape. Were Selene to escape, she would return sooner or later. To miss the opportunity of communicating with the outside world especially someone who was so near and dear to her would be foolish and as much as Selene was a child, she was an intelligent young lady. Chica’s arms flailed slightly, searching for some sort of solace, for something to ease the internal soul’s sudden onslaught of fear. The screen still flickered over Freddie heads and even a spare Chica head seemed to stare at her, as though reminding Selene of her fate and where and what she was encased in. Ramming into the chair, falling over the aviary feet, slamming into the wall, Selene yowled in frustration and terror. At the realization of no longer being able to distance herself from the monitor, Selene’s groans grew rapidly into a progressive shriek that rattled their skulls. The sound rushed from the office, echoing throughout the restaurant with no sign of stopping. It tore through Shaggy’s and Velma’s and Fred’s ears, causing them to try their best not to wince at the cringing noise. Scooby howled in pain, clamping his ears to his skull and curling into a brown, furry ball beneath the desk. 

“Selene?!”

“HE TOOK ME IN THERE!”

“Who did?” Velma’s voice never wavered, knowing how to deal with frightened children. She had handled them many times before in various cases and while some were hard to get through to, others were easy. Selene was an arrogant, aggressive child but Velma could understand why after hearing her back story from Miss Baline and her parents. She had known what it was like to be an outcast and while she did have Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, and Scooby as friends, there were other days when they weren’t around. In those days, she was taunted and teased and knew how cruel others could be, especially kids. While she found solace in what she adored, she wondered if Selene was the same; finding comfort in science and sport.

“Purple guy?” Fred interjected, needing to know if this was the same man that had killed Andrew. It wouldn’t surprise him, but rather help them understand this mystery even further. 

“MAYBE! I-I DON’T KNOW, BUT HE TOOK ME IN THERE!”

“How?” Velma questioned softly as the monitor flickered to the bathroom area which suddenly silenced Selene’s screaming and Scooby’s howling. Seeing the grounds she frequently roamed to, the soul immediately grew calm. Pressed against the wall, the goldenrod chick’s eyes flickered with an eerie glow that seemed to be the only source of light within the office, if not the entire pizzeria. Shaggy swallowed hard, never leaving Velma’s side. His rigid, lanky frame was as firm as a wall, not once moving or faltering as long as Chica was in the room. He knew that Selene meant no harm, but still he didn’t want to run the risk. 

“Well, I came in here to….get out…of the rain. There was a birthday cake…and it was being taken to a table. The room was dim. And….and I saw him…standing in the backstage door way…I couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a suit I…..I hadn’t seen before.”

“What did it look like?” Fred inquired as he watched the suit’s eyes fall to the floor once more, as though ashamed it broke something near and dear to everyone’s hearts. 

“I…I couldn’t make much of it out..but from what I saw…its eyes glowed. It was tall and it asked…if I…I wanted to meet……a new…friend of Freddie’s. I…I said yes….to kill some time. He said ‘come backstage’ and I….I…I went with him. I…I..didn’t think it’d lead to this…,” Selene’s tone crackled once more and her voice box quivered, causing sobs to emerge and hold the office in captive in tension. Their spines stood erect, hairs rising on the back of their necks as they watched the chick bow its head in shame. The room spun with an eerie silence that seemed to be the calm before the storm, as though something terrible and tragic was about to unfurl before them. Bated breaths dared not release themselves in fear of Chica losing control with a corrupted servos. Scooby peered out from under the desk, too terrified to move as Chica’s head swiveled as though it lacked an internal frame.

“It’s Fazbear’s….it’s safe…I thought I’d be okay…I THOUGHT I’D BE OKAY!” Chica rammed a wing into the wall and something fell with a loud clatter at one of the animatronics’ feet. Kicking the object, Chica proceeded to throw its large body about the room like a child captured in an unruly tantrum. Shaggy guarded Velma’s body with his own as he watched Chica’s moves warily. He would move wherever the animatronic did while protecting Velma to ensure that she would never be harmed. Velma stayed at his back, observing Chica’s wild behavior as her wings swung about, her head twisted and contorted almost inhumanely, and Shaggy reeled in fear at that sudden action. Velma pressed her palms to his back as he swore a surge of strength tore through him in knowing who he was protecting if not with his body, but his life. His narrowed eyes flashed to brimming brown orbs of confidence, remembering everything that he wanted with Velma and how his heart pounded much faster now than it had before when this evening began. 

Velma poked her head out from Shaggy’s protection and slowly side stepped his body. From the corner of his eye, he watched her as he felt his heart stop in terror. Should she leave his side his fantasies would possibly unfurl, giving way to a dreadful nightmare that he could not ease or escape from. Velma would be swallowed by the mechanical monstrosity and join Selene without a second thought. The idea of her short frame being mangled by cogs and strangled by cords made Shaggy’s stomach churn as though he devoured an expired pack of lunchmeat. He couldn’t let her live out this fate, not if he would take her place.

“Velma, like what-“

“Sssh,” Velma spoke softly as she gradually neared Chica, dodging thrown objects with ease. She had grown used to air borne items in her old days with Mystery Inc. when they were starting out. Ghosts and masked criminals tossed and thrust objects at them many moons ago and while Velma wasn’t so quick back then, she was now. Sidestepping each filing cabinet and first aid kit, she found herself only a few feet away from Chica who yelled and screamed, anger seething from the soul. 

“Chica. Chica calm down. We can help you. ” Velma attempted to coax the animatronic as well as the now sobbing soul within with her gentle voice.

Slowly turning toward her, Velma was met with the lifeless glowing eyes of Chica and only barely imagined what the spirit inside was feeling. To die was not a grand adventure. To have a life forcibly ended, especially at such a young age was far worse. Selene had potential to become an incredible athlete and everyone knew this. Her skills were unmatched, her talent was above the rest, and to have it all snatched away by a place she believed she could trust, let alone one of its employees, was enough to make her sick through and through with no sight of relief. Velma swallowed hard, knowing what she had gotten herself into, but not expecting Chica to grip the office chair; its round eyes never once leaving Velma as the room grew thick with tension. In that room no one’s heart beat and no one dared made a sound or move in fear of further angering Chica, let alone Selene. Chica was already enraged to the point of throwing everything in sight, to continue to test the animatronic’s temper would most likely mean death.

Velma had never seen an animatronic so infuriated before. Come to think of it, she wondered how it was possible for something inhuman (other than the soul that possessed it) to be far more angry than the typical human. It was a strange wonder, one she did not believe she would ever see in her life. Rooting her feet to the ground, she locked eyes with Chica and stared beyond the gears and into Selene’s soul which shivered with an unspeakable rage.

**“HOW CAN I CALM DOWN WHEN I’M LIKE THIS?!”**

“VELMA!” Grabbing Velma by the wrist, Shaggy yanked her back and quickly turned on his heel as Chica threw the office chair. Gripping Velma’s shoulders, Shaggy cried out in pain as he felt the object collide with his spine. His knees buckled, ready to give out from the pain that had been induced upon his skinny frame, but they straightened, knowing who he grasped and knowing what he had to do for her. Albeit it wasn’t as painful as Fred’s wound, but he still felt ripples of agony rip through his body. His feet fell forward and he found his forehead had met with Velma’s citrus smelling hair. The scent roused him from his pain as Velma gripped his hips to hold him up as a shade of cherry red blossomed not only on her cheeks, but his as well.


	15. The Uncovering of Selene and Tabitha

In that moment, the chilly air that filled the pizzeria seemed to melt at the warmth that seemingly bounced between Shaggy and Velma. By no means was this scene romantic as the pain still trembled along Shaggy’s spine, rippling throughout his body. With every quake, his fingers grasped Velma’s sweater seeking solace. Velma let him, pulling him closer to her so that he wouldn’t fall and that he could regain his balance by using her as support. Her forehead reclined against his chest and she swore the world was moving very slowly, much like time. She had experienced this sensation rarely and when it occurred it was either something catastrophic at her finger tips or love weaving its spell upon her. Knowing the situation at hand, she believed it to be a combination of both: of Chica’s strength merged with the budding feelings she had for the man before her. Never before had something like this occurred and she wondered when time would continue at a regular pace so she could now defend Shaggy as he had done so for her. There was no time to waste in a situation like this, but she couldn’t bring herself to free herself from him as only now he rooted his feet to the ground in an attempt to regain his composure. She gripped the cloth between her fingers and smelled that cologne he wore and after all these years she could never discern the scent. In her mind she believed it was a mixture of whatever food he had devoured recently combined with dollar store cologne, which didn’t bother her at all; rather this perfume further defined him as the man she secretly adored. 

“Are you okay?” Velma asked softly, the words melding with the fabric at her lips. Her gentle tones were a mix of terror from Chica’s power and how much strength a soul (especially that of a child) could have and concern for the man who now rested against her like a board leaning against a wall. His heart beat quickly in response to her question causing her lips to curl a little.

“Y-yeah,” Shaggy started through gritted teeth. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you like okay, Velms?”

“Yes. Thank you.”That thank you was enough to make Shaggy smile through the pain. To know that she was safe and unscathed made him relax in the notion that he had fulfilled his duty properly. She bore no scars or scratches or pain that still twanged throughout his body, causing his shoulders to relax, and his body to gain a mind of its own and wrap Velma in his arms, pulling her into an embrace.

Why he had hugged her, he was uncertain himself, but his brain pushed him to do such a thing, and he, a slave to his emotions, gave in. He had hugged Velma many times before and vice versa, but this time, it felt different. This time it felt like a thousand, warm summer days packaged in one action that while he had performed many times before, now seemed so much different and much warmer. It was only now he realized just how small Velma was. She was so tiny and while being the shortest one in the group (next to Scooby if he stayed on all four legs), he had known of her height since the day they started out in Mystery Inc. But never once had he noticed this when hugging her and it was strangely wonderful to feel such a strong, miniature woman against his towering, lanky frame. He could feel his heart rattling like a gorilla in a cage within his chest and he wondered if Velma’s heart was pounding the same way. Had he listened or felt her chest much more closely, he would have had his answer confirmed. Velma’s heart was as loud as a marching band mixed with the constant thumping of an impatient, overly excited rabbit. Her hands wound their way up his back as high as they could go and gripped the fabric once more, exercising her fear of Selene and Chica but also her concern for the man holding her. She couldn’t tell if her cheeks were reddened from their sudden interaction, but she could feel their heat circulating throughout her body like the first sip of a comforting cup of hot chocolate. 

“Oh…oh…what…what have I-“ Selene interrupted, breaking from her angered spell as she used the animatronic’s eyes to gaze about the office. With a chair strewn at Shaggy’s feet and the place in a general sense of disarray (save for the monitors and screens on the desk), Selene began to piece together what she had done. In real life, her temper was no match for anyone who dared cross her path especially when she was in a bad mood. Her arrogance when mixed with her anger was equally matched to that of a bursting volcano and she knew this all too well; for it was another reason that other children would tease her. At times they called her ‘The Hulk’ because of how her anger exploded onto the scene and sometimes would lead her to toss things about as she had just done.

Velma’s ears perked and she was snapped her back to reality, away from the comfort of Shaggy’s arms. Time began to catch up on itself as Fred scrambled to get the chair in the upright position and Shaggy reached his hand backward, feeling for the arm rest. Once he found it, he unwillingly tore himself from Velma’s embrace and settled himself into the chair. Although his eyes stared ahead, watching the large yellow chick, they clung to the corner, observing Velma and how she suddenly seemed so empty without his embrace. Turning her focus to Selene, she knew that if fate worked its hand and she followed Daphne’s advice, Shaggy would be in her arms again. 

“Selene,Selene, it’s okay.” Velma cooed gently once more and Shaggy winced, hiding the grimace so that the animatronic wouldn’t see it.

“YOUHURTDANIEL!” Bonnie roared from the door way and Fred jumped, not expecting the sudden appearance of the purple rabbit who seemingly glared at Chica. Shaggy’s eyes widened at the animatronic’s surprise visit and felt his beating heart slowly sink into his feet. He had had enough negative encounters with Bonnie before and the last thing he needed right now was to be devoured by Bonnie given his vulnerable position. 

“Raniel?”

Velma’s eyes widened as she recalled how Mrs. Grace claimed that Shaggy looked like Tabitha’s best friend who had moved no sooner her disappearance occurred. She personally believed that his parents made him move to avoid the trouble of explaining death to him and to spare him the heart break. The internal cogs began to turn as Velma watched Shaggy and realized how she hadn’t informed him of the situation. Most of the time she had managed to see him throughout this venture was when he was asleep and she dared not stir him from his well needed slumber. Other times were when he was able to sneak the gang into the pizzeria to further conduct the mystery solving, but at those moments she was either too frozen with fear to recall Mrs. Grace’s interview or simply, like most humans, forgot. 

“Daniel! It’smeTabitha!” Bonnie’s demeanor changed to that of an elated puppy who was reunited with its owner and Shaggy felt his heart sink even further, having no idea as to what was occurring before him. He could only guess that Bonnie had recognized him as someone who looked like him; just like what happened with Foxy to Fred and Chica to Velma.

“I’m sorry, Ihadn’tsaid anything to youbefore, I wasjust…nervous. CauseyouseeI I miss you and I…I….”

A low, moan arose from Bonnie’s voicebox as it erupted into a crackling noise that sounded like a child doing their best not to cry, but express pain in the only way they knew how. The sound rattled Shaggy as though an earthquake was running through his body and soul. Gripping the armrests he stared as Bonnie approached him slowly, not wanting him to run or scream. Soon the purple animatronic towered over Shaggy who sat frozen with fear, staring into its glowing eyes and Scooby Doo or Fred couldn’t even stand before him to defend him.

Once more, the office was held in a vice grip of tension and apprehension as to what would unfurl before everyone. Foxy warily watched Chica and Bonnie as they interacted with Shaggy and Velma. Fred too, watched the scene unravel before him while videotaping it and only helping when he believed he was needed or called out to by his friends. Their keen eyes took note of every breath that was inhaled as though it would be their last. The dense air weighed on their shoulders, causing their necks to crane upward at the animatronics, and into their eyes wondering what words would spill forth from their mouths, and what the incredibly near future would have in store for them. Selene had already unleashed the load of her emotions and knew it would be unwise to harm anyone within the vicinity. Tabitha, the lonesome soul that rested within Bonnie, no one knew how she would act. 

The moan faded some and in its place, the voicebox crackled as the child’s voice emerged once more filled with shameful and sorrowful tones.

“I…I don’twantyoutoseemelikethis.”

“No one does, Tabitha.” Selene interjected, the animatronic’s eyes falling over Velma. “But at some point w-we….we have to…to…show ourselves……so….people can help us.” 

Selene paused, the anger in her voice let alone aura had faded greatly by now, having realized that anger would get her nowhere and no one should be harmed because of her terrible fate. Tabitha knew what Selene had spoken the truth, but also her feelings for Daniel had carried from real life to her afterlife. In reality, Tabitha had adored Daniel as a best friend and at times, she did have a crush on him as their relationship deepened. She always wore the best outfits she had whenever she went on a play date or to school with him, knowing that he would only hang around with her and no other girl. She always made it a mission to keep it this way and now, knowing what she looked like beneath the cogs and wires, knew that there was no possible way that he would ever see her as he had done so before. Yet Selene had a point and Tabitha had grown close to Selene, sharing the bonds of friendship even in the afterlife. Selene knew that Tabitha was shy around the night guard as well as everyone else who neared her. The only ones she would allow close to her in her corrupted mortal state were children wanting to interact with a seemingly innocent animatronic. They didn’t know better of what lied inside the purple rabbit frame or any other animatronic frame nor would they ever know. The only possible way they could know, were through ghost stories and rumors told by those throughout Brigton. Selene would fall within those stories too and also never show anyone, but possibly those that could help them, what she looked like within the Chica suit. 

Chica’s glowing orbs fell upon the terrified dog that watched everything beneath the desk as guilt overtook Selene. The dog meant no harm, she knew this too. She loved dogs actually and every Christmas she would wish for her one, but Santa never delivered and probably respected the landlord’s wishes of no pets in the apartment complex. She wished she could befriend Scooby Doo now, but after the harrowing experiences she had put him through, she knew there was no possible way he would ever forgive her despite the notion that dogs were generally forgiving animals. 

“I-I’m sorry….I was trying to show…you….that…I was here….why I kept…putting your dog in my mouth. You…and your friend were….fighting me off with things in your hands.” Selene spoke and Shaggy felt his spine rake with guilt and Fred swore he felt his heart plummet into his toenails. 

While they had acted on their instincts at that time, they never considered that thought to be an option. They never believed that children were stuck inside, terrified souls too weary and fearful to escape. Rather, they believed the stories Velma had told them from the internet and the interviews parents had permitted. Though that was what they had believed all this time: that the mechanical beasts had eaten children. Now their minds were fresh with more knowledge and understanding and in knowing this, they knew they probably should have acted differently in that scene. The past was past now, yet the pain still stung from the notion that they were attacking the soul of a child without properly thinking. In those moments they had only thought of themselves and self defense and now, perhaps, knowing what they knew, they would change their future plan. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Fred began in a casual tone that caused Chica to look his way in confusion and concern. 

“We’re sorry we attacked you.” He continued and he swore Chica’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, her apology not in vain, but rather successful. The orbs shone as though the soul had felt happiness in what seemed like an incredibly long time and while Chica’s frame could not smile or show any sort of joyful emotion, Selene knew that everything would be somewhat all right now. She knew that they were here to help despite their prior tactics and how she was. No one could blame her for being that way though, being murdered as a child with an already rough life of teasing from other peers, a depressed mother, and a miscarried sibling? It wasn’t easy, especially for Selene. 

Shaggy’s head leaned into the office chair, content now in knowing that at least two, no, three of the animatronics wouldn’t attack them. Even the pain from his back injury seemed to fully subside, but he knew there would still be a bruise on that tender flesh. Taking a deep breath of relief, his eyes watched Bonnie as it seemingly bowed its head and sulked into the hall. 

“Wait, Tabitha!” Shaggy called out, knowing that everything could be jeopardized should a soul not be reached out to, and while Selene was apologetic, he wouldn’t take his chances with Bonnie. Bonnie’s head perked up as the animatronic returned to him rather quickly like a puppy being called by its master. He knew he would have to take on the role of Daniel, whoever he was, and ask Velma and Fred about it later.

“Yeahyeah?”

“Tabitha…I…like I missed you too.” He spoke softly, copying Velma’s maneuver with Selene and smiled in the same fashion. Bonnie’s shoulders dropped in relief that the message got across and that once more the soul inside was reunited with someone she knew. It was comforting in the least and she wished she could stretch Bonnie’s mouth into a smile, but regretfully she could not do so. She was only strong enough for possession, not item alteration. She had tried to change Bonnie’s expression many times before, but it did nothing more than wear her out. Knowing this, she could only do the best she could in her situation when it came to expressing emotions.

“Selene,” Velma started, knowing that there was more business to be taken care of on this night, such as gathering evidence as to who the murderer was, how they performed their actions, the aftermath of the murder, what the victim looked like, and why these crimes were ever committed. 

“Show me what you look like, please.” Velma spoke softly and the animatronic seemed to stop functioning for a moment. Velma had seen the teeth produced from Chica’s frame, but she wanted definite proof to confirm her theories. Selene and Chica seemed to stop for a moment, registering Velma’s demand. Selene knew what she looked like after the months that had gone by. While it would be shocking and a bit terrifying to Shaggy, Fred, and Scooby, Velma had dissected many a brain and creature before in her life for science.

“Are-are you sure?” Selene’s voicebox waivered and tendrils of blood spilled forth from her beak and eyes as though anticipating Velma’s answer. Even the scent of rotting flesh rose from within the bird’s frame, ready to expose Chica’s internal cadaver.

“Yes. We want to help you in every way possible, Selene.” Velma continued and Shaggy and Fred nodded in affirmation. 

“O-okay…..” Chica’s body grew limp as the bird stood on its two orange legs. 

Sagging shoulders gave way to more crimson lines racing down arms. The animatronic’s eyes glowed far more brightly, emanating a distressing light that tore through the dim illumination of the office. Staring at Velma, Chica opened its mouth as far as it could to the point where its gears squeaked in protest. As the mouth opened, a low guttural groan crept from the voicebox and upward through the parting beak as the unmistakable scent of rotting flesh burst forth from the mechanical being. When the head and mouth could go back no more, Velma hurriedly took a pocket flashlight she had on her person and cautiously neared the animatronic. Each footstep was more antagonizing than the last, causing each heart in the room to thump harshly as though they were seized in a bout of terror. Velma’s heart pounded anxiously with fright and wonder, having seen and worked on deceased things in the past, the human body was no exception. It was for biology and scientific research of course and while the idea of cutting into a cadaver had terrified her greatly many years ago, she had grown some thick skin over the years. But to know that a mangled, irreparable corpse rested within something she had never suspected still sent shivers down her spine. Yet the science driven section of her brain urged her to walk faster, get closer, all within a matter of seconds, but for the life of her, she found she could only walk slowly towards Chica. 

“Please don’t be scared.” Selene’s voice spoke from the crackling voicebox.

“I won’t be. May we film what we see?” Velma spat out no sooner the words came to her head and Chica nodded slowly. This would help further their evidence and discovery as Velma flicked the light inside Chica’s mouth.

As mentioned, Velma had worked on cutting into the body of a human before for science. That body was always an adult, usually someone in their early thirties, late twenties. The bodies were usually donated by an autopsy department who tagged the corpses as Jane Doe or John Doe; they were seemingly nobodies in the world they had left because no one could identify them. 

Now the corpse of a child, however, was severely different. It was different in the sense of everyone knew the name of a child and if it could not be discerned at the time, then it would almost immediately be found. Children were far different than adults in regard to death. Children were often sympathized more for being so young and so filled with life, life that they had not yet experienced or embraced. Their minds were open and imaginative; they were the freshly lit candles, burning for what would hopefully be a very long time. Adults on the other hand, mostly had their run, but were still sympathized and mourned for as any other individual who had died. Their flame was sputtering and sparkling, but still farther ahead than a child’s. 

In the days of dissection, Velma had only volunteered once to dissect an unknown child’s corpse, but no sooner her eyes fell upon the body she was overcome with something strange. Something maternal and distraught, as though it were her child on the operating table, when it bore no relation to her at all. She swore she remembered that day all too well in her darkest hours; of tearing up at the child and while doing her best to swallow those tears with a scalpel at hand, she couldn’t bring herself to cut into the corpse. Her coworkers had joked about the situation with her, thus further inducing humiliation and discomfort. Thankfully, those coworkers received their just desserts for their mockery of Velma’s breakdown, but that’s a story for another day.

Velma swore she felt her heart tremble severely and break, releasing a sense of distress to start bubbling and brewing in her chest. As the flashlight shone on what used to be a child’s head, Velma had to work fast but steadily to ensure her understanding of this corpse’s condition. Chica’s head was round and almost human shaped and while this would have provided some relief, none was to be found; for there was a matter of the endoskeleton’s frame and cogs that added into the effect. Selene’s head seemingly formed around the internal skeleton, jammed in there by some reckless murderous monster. The head was so far pushed in that the skull seemingly snapped upon the impact of steel. The forehead Velma believed, rested at where the nose would be; were it an adult, it would meet the endoskeleton’s anatomy perfectly. 

Rotting flesh fell around the beams, dangling just before the voicebox which explained why Chica’s voicebox crackled and choked up at times. Velma’s heart was already broken by the sickly visage of Selene’s corpse, but with every detail she noticed the more she swore her heart was being stomped on without relief. The skeleton was probably already deteriorated a great deal by now, though Velma believed she noticed yellowed jagged bits protruding from decayed flesh. Selene’s eyes were gone, they were usually one of the first things to be devoured by time or maggots or other external forces. The jaw was slack open, captured in an eternal state of shock and horror and while most of the teeth were loose or gone, Velma wondered if the two teeth Shaggy had given her would still fit in their gaps. They appeared to be two left bicuspids and taking note of the empty gaps where those teeth would rest, Velma immediately received her answer. While they were incredibly rotten, Velma was able to discern what type of teeth they were based on her knowledge from over the years of working with biology and dissection. 

While she could not see the rest of the body, Velma deduced that the rest of the body had to stuffed within the torso region. The head would have to have been decapitated to fit within Chica’s noggin. The arms, legs, chest, hands, and feet would have to have been shoved into Chica’s chest. This reason emerged for the sole notion that Chica’s arms had gaps in them, causing wires to be briefly seen. It would do the murderer no good to place the limbs in a place where they could possibly be seen; the same applied for the legs. Furthermore, Chica’s chest was rather large, allowing for the remaining body to easily be hidden within. The decapitation would have had to taken place because Chica’s neck was also briefly exposed, revealing some wire. Velma knew that the killer had to be careful in hiding such a body within animatronics and that they would leave nothing to chance. They had excelled beyond the typical murderer who would shove a corpse in an animatronic and run. Instead this murderer took their time in placing the body properly inside Chica. To carefully hide the corpse in a quick fashion and clean up leaving no evidence whatsoever must have taken a tremendous amount of skill. Velma wondered who exactly this murderer was and how they were able to do so much in so little time.

Velma assumed that the body itself was in far worse condition than the head. In believing this, she felt her emotions swell greatly, causing her chest to well up like an inflating balloon, and her eyes begin to tear. How anyone could ever do this especially to a child was a crime so heinous and obscene that she wondered if they had ever encountered a murder as brutal as this. Shaggy dared not look into Chica’s frame and Fred did his best to avert his gaze while shakily holding a camera over Velma’s shoulder. He did his best to keep it steady, but the combination of everything he had seen and heard and smelled began to overwhelm him so much so that his knees grew wobbly. Rooting his feet to the floor, he knew he had to retain his balance and composure if not for Selene, but for this mystery as well. Scooby still hid beneath the desk, his eyes never leaving the tile floor, knowing very well what he had seen inside Chica’s mouth, and not wanting to relive the scene again.


	16. Malfunction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, better late than never. Sorry about the wait, I kind of got tied up with life.

There were a few things for certain on this third night. The first thing was that it was unsettling and definitive that the children (except for Andrew whose soul inhabited Foxy’s frame) were stuffed inside the animatronics. The second thing was that this was a case they would never forget. This case would be seared into their skulls for many years and many nights. They doubted they would be able to rest, in fear of what they had seen would dance through their dreams and cause them to cling to a partner, a plushie, or even a pillow. Something would have to be done to remedy this and Fred knew that he would look into his healthcare plan at work to see if it covered any sort of therapy. In this moment, Fred was glad Daphne wasn’t here – the sight of Selene’s torn, decomposed flesh against sharp metal was something he knew would probably cause Daphne to run off and most likely vomit. Daphne could always handle her own on mysteries, but if it ever became too grisly then she would be seen bolting for the bathroom. Fred had the strongest stomach of the group, but he knew what unnerved him – corpses and organs especially, but not the fake ones and Selene was no exception. He swore that the last thing he could remember feeling was his stomach dropping so low it could have struck the floor. He couldn’t even remember the last time he took a breath, not wanting the scent of death to fill his lungs and suffocate him from the inside out. Fred wondered how long Velma would continue to examine the stuffed Selene, he could feel his fingers trembling on his cell phone as he watched through the screen. His perspective shifted from Velma’s burgundy bob to wires and pipes poking through the child’s rotted head. Fred was surprised at how Velma was handling this; it was as though she were at the lab from her old days studying science and biology, but he couldn’t help to notice her cheeks and eyes slowly inflating with tears for poor Selene. Shaggy by far had the weakest stomach in the group and it was as evident by his pale skin. He watched his friend whose eyes never left Bonnie as the rabbit occasionally looked at him much differently than prior days and nights. Before the rabbit stared at him with coldness and cried like a ghost and stalked him without abandon. But now, Bonnie stared at him with a somewhat softer glow to its eyes and a more lax body that seemed to imitate the notions of a shy little girl. Hands at the back, eyes occasionally roaming over to his rigid frame only to quickly divert away when he glanced Bonnie’s way. It was rather strange to see such a machine act in a rather humanly manner and it reminded Fred, if not Shaggy, of what lied inside. 

Beneath those crossbeams and wires was a little girl who was finally happy, but shy to see her best friend. This was probably the happiest she felt in a long time since the day of her murder, but also the most shy – in fear of her corpse being exposed. The last thing Tabitha wanted to be revealed was her cadaver all mangled and melded with the rusted pipes and gears. Bonnie’s body fidgeted slightly, a combination of Tabitha’s shyness and happiness, but also her fear and concern. She knew why Daniel looked at her as though he had seen a puppy hung in front of his eyes and she knew what he smelled radiating from her. It couldn’t be helped and it only caused Bonnie’s frame to rock some more. Tabitha knew she would have to take her mind off this in attempt to not only alleviate the situation, but her own soul and Daniel’s horror.

“Daniel…um…what’sNewYorklike?”

Tabitha spoke from Bonnie’s voice box and stirred Shaggy from his stare. New York was a place that Shaggy actually liked sometimes. He wasn’t much of a city man, but there were things that the Big Apple had to offer that he enjoyed. The Greenwich Village especially, home to those old hippies and artists that people would frown down upon, but he didn’t care. It was a lifestyle he too had taken in since the day of his birth and not once did he look back. Besides, the village was home to a little shack called Pommes Frites and he swore he could lose himself in that eatery. Thousands of dipping sauces both strange and familiar and all with a good bucket of fries while listening to some good guitar music. It was a little paradise for himself, but he didn’t mind the rest of the city especially the restaurants. He ventured off to Central Park somedays to pay his respects to John Lennon and to take in the scenery and watch the skyscrapers tower above the green world just beneath his feet.

He would have to take Velma there again. They had been to New York what seemed like thousands of times and yet every time they went, there was always something new to do. Some festival going on or some foodie fest that would draw them from their initial reason of going there. They were brief distractions, but they were welcoming and foreign. Velma adored the seminars with Neil DeGrasse Tyson, the view from Lady Liberty, and the museums especially. She fell madly in love with an oddity shop that not only sold antiques, but fossilized and preserved specimens. She bought herself a geode there – her love for rocks was unbound, especially geodes and quartz.

“New York,” Shaggy started off shakily, remembering who he was talking to and having to pretend to play a part he did not know. To take on the role of a boy named Daniel who moved away to New York when Tabitha was declared missing and never mentioned that she was deceased, though the smell emanating from Bonnie’s suit was certain proof that she was far gone. It was a challenge, but he always considered himself a child at heart so he hoped he could succeed and ease Tabitha’s soul. To mess this up would possibly mean a date with an upset soul inhabiting a blood dripping purple rabbit and Shaggy was not eager to embrace that possible event.

“New York, like, it’s big. There’s like all these shops and really great places to eat.” Scooby smiled to himself as he heard that remark. It was good to see his master attempting to help those in need like Tabitha and he wondered if there was anything he could to help other than cower beneath the desk. Though the smell of death whipped at his nose once more and he cringed, sulking under the piece of furniture.

“Reallyreally?”

“Yep! And like there’s even old museums with tons of art in ‘em!”

“Ohwow! I..I…I wannagotoNewYork….I….I…I wanna go with you.”

In that moment there was the sad realization from the group that Tabitha would never go to New York. She would never see her best friend nor would she ever get to feel the sunshine on her face while skipping through Central Park or be dazzled by the city’s lights at night. She would never get to act upon her feelings for Daniel (should she have any, though it wouldn’t surprise any of them considering children formed crushes rather easily with someone they liked) or ever get to hold his hand while walking through FAO Schwartz. He wondered if she even knew she would never make it to New York. He could imagine, that like Selene, Tabitha’s body was beyond repair and mangled horrifically inside that suit. Her soul, while it still inhabited Bonnie’s suit could possibly escape were it set free. Clearly, it would have to be freed sooner or later, but by how Shaggy wasn’t sure. He had seen souls break free from their prisons at seeing their beloved one last time or being able to do or say something they couldn’t before in reality. Others needed a priest or a medium, but for this situation Shaggy was uncertain.

“I-I’d,” Shaggy felt something choke his windpipes. His voice box was tangled in something intangible, but strong. It was though someone were ripping his heart out with a slippery grip, each pull getting stronger and tugging harder and harder causing ripples of pain to go throughout his frame like a virus. It burned his chest and wormed its way up to his face where he swore his cheeks were gradually warming. His hand flung to the side of his face, feeling the warm skin beneath his cold hand. He could even hear his heart slowing in his ear while his body felt weightless, overcome with some sort of grief. 

“I’d like t-to go with you, T-Tabitha.” He choked out that sentence and Velma’s shoulders drooped, a tear rolling down her cheek. He knew nothing of Tabitha, her parent, or her interview. All he knew was that he was playing the role of someone the ghost would never see again in their lifetime. At best, they would probably reunite in death, but that was so many years to come. Even then, the afterlife had to be a large expanse or so Velma believed and she wondered if it would be impossible for them to reunite through the sea of souls both old and new.

With every slow pang of his heart, his chest seemed to hurt more and his body writhed beneath the sudden twangs. His arm stretched across his face, a fleshy blindfold and possible tear catcher. 

Sometimes when cases were far too gruesome or too horrific to bear, Shaggy would feel his heart clench with grief for the departed. Children who were killed hurt his heart the most. They reminded him of how when he was a child, how he had so much potential back then with the gang and it eventually grew into Mystery Inc and his life as a musician. Those vulnerable, youthful souls were snatched away before they had the chance and in knowing this, it broke his heart some. The break could be seen in his face and with how he carried himself in a mystery that revolved around it. Yet he knew he would have be the strong adult when it came to dealing with the spirits of children who were weakened by murder. Sometimes though, he couldn’t always be the strong adult – he did have emotions too just like Fred, Daphne, Scooby, and Velma. It was in these times he would swallow his tears and do his best to not appear as though he carried the weight of a sorrowful world on his shoulders. From this façade he would rarely cry and yet, he felt as though this was far more than for sympathy. 

“Heyhey,what’s wrong? I’m-I’m not going anywhere. I’m stillhere,see?”

Scooby Doo slowly abandoned his hiding place beneath the desk to greet his owner with some sort of comforting reassurance. The past few days he and his master had seen and heard a ton. Corpses horrifically wedged inside these animatronics, ungodly means of murder all performed by someone called ‘Purple Guy’ – who they still barely had any information on, the inevitable stench of rotted flesh paired with the spilling of blood from the mechanical animals’ orifices, and the undeniable truth that life might not be the same after this. There would be no cases for a while, Shaggy would imagine, and wouldn’t mind. Even as he thought about Tabitha and Andrew and Selene, he felt something in his brain tweak some while another thing began to grow too tightly. It was strange, he had never felt this before and it sparked a miniature headache which made him wince slightly. That was the last thing he needed, next to losing his sanity.

Shaggy sniffled in response and the pitch in Tabitha’s voice increased significantly.

“D-D-D-Daniel!Don’tcry please! I-I won’t, I won’t leave you!”

He was never this emotional in cases. Why now of all times baffled him and he turned his head away, not wanting Tabitha to see him cry. Wiping his tears away with his arm, he could feel Scooby Doo pull him into a tight hug. Velma sharply looked over, her heart already broken from the sight of Selene and knowing what had happened to her, but to see Shaggy tearing up over the loss of a child he barely had a connection to caused her to worry. Yes, she knew that cases could sometimes hit close to home and Velma felt a gratuitous amount of sympathy for the children of this case. Children were heart breakers especially when they were being adorable or deceased. She had seen Shaggy hide his face in the past with a smile to ensure that he was all right, when he was shedding mournful tears in his heart. He couldn’t fool her – she was too perceptive and analytical for her own good. She knew he always put on a strong front in situations that may have struck his heart too hard and Velma figured that this case would make someone cry in the gang sooner or later because of how heart wrenching and terrible it was.

A tear rolled down her cheek at his slumped shoulders and bowed head, but what made her heart stop was his lips moving silently. She could read lips fairly well, a skill she had picked up while working with Mystery Inc.; so much so that she could easily communicate this way when the situation called for it. From beneath his arm, she saw his lips move and from it no sound was produced, but the message was loud and clear. She could feel her shoulders tense at the simple message that made her spine stutter and shiver and her brain reeling with any possible solution that could remedy the quiet words he spoke about how he truly felt.

‘I can’t do this anymore, like it’s too much, I can’t do this anymore, like it’s getting too much.’

He was going to snap like a broken bone and how soon it would be, Velma did not know. By far he had endured the worst of the case – taking on (well more like Carl putting him up to) the position of the night guard. Hearing those metallic footsteps on the tile and watching the cameras, waiting to see what would strike from the shadows. He had fainted a few times already and that probably tired his sanity and from there onward he continued to stretch it to its peak. She wondered how fast the cogs in his head worked to keep his thinking straight despite seeing and smelling everything that he had so far. There was only so much the human heart let alone mind could withstand and everyone had their limits before they broke. Perhaps, it was now reaching Shaggy had reached his snapping point to which Velma felt something punch her heart. 

This wasn’t what she wanted, this isn’t what she wanted to see – corpses were fine, but to see her best friend and secret crush slowly lose his sanity to the moans of ghost children morbidly mangled inside mechanical beings was something that not even her heart or her own mind could bear to witness. She wondered who else would start to lose it, hopefully no one, and she would have rather be the one to lose her sanity first having dragged them all into this wild ride. So far everyone seemed all right and yet she wondered if she was being selfish for not thinking ahead of what could happen. For once her analytical nature failed her and she could do nothing, but watch the world around her crumble, her sane friend turning to a dark corner of their mind that they would have a hard time escaping from. She wouldn’t let Shaggy fall into that field of shadows and insanity, not if she could help it.

“Chica,” Velma spoke softly. “Thank you, for showing us who you are.”

“A-are you scared?”

“No,” Velma swallowed. “Not at all.”

The bird’s body seemed to come to life once more, no longer slouched as though it were a sack of sand. Selene lowered Chica’s jaw, the decayed cadaver swallowed once more by the inky darkness and wires that Chica possessed. Glowing eyes watched Velma and Fred as he lowered his phone, having needed what he recorded. Taking a deep breath, he wondered if he would have to record Bonnie’s innards to which he wasn’t looking forward to that, but if it aided the case then he would have no choice but to comply. He would never let Daphne do such a thing as he did and he wondered how Velma was holding up through the sights and sounds of Fazbear’s.

“So you said he put you in-“

“ **HE. PUT. ME. IN….THERE.** ” Selene growled and Shaggy’s spine shook at her tones, his fingers digging into his sandy hair, causing the night guard cap to fall.

“D-Daniel?” Tabitha watched him with glowing eyes and Velma’s vision drifted to the corner of her eye where she observed him. His spine curved like his shoulders and he bowed his head low. He said nothing, but only felt something tightening deep in his skull, just like Velma felt something clench her heart into a tight grip. He was losing it fast from what she could tell and she watched his body gradually start to shrivel, hunching before the purple rabbit.

“Raggy?”

“Hey Fred, can you talk to Chica?” Velma hurriedly whispered to Fred, her eyes never leaving Shaggy. She had to get him out of there before it was too late. By now his fingers were trembling, much like his knees and Bonnie was slowly taking a few steps back, Tabitha’s soul quaking with hesitation and fear that she had done something wrong. Bonnie’s eyes glowed wildly as though the animatronic were burning from the inside out.

“I think I need to use the bathroom.” She spoke loudly enough for Shaggy to hear and at her words, he looked at her from the corner of his eye. 

His fingers stopped shaking some and Bonnie looked at Velma as though she had all the cures in the world to help him. The rabbit’s eyes never left her, not even as Velma strode over to Shaggy. Locking eyes with the great dane, he knew she would take care of him even for a few moments. She always knew how to and it was something the dog was grateful for. Easily releasing him into her short arms, Shaggy broke from his fleshy blindfold and met with her hazel eyes now flaring with concern. Grabbing the flashlight and keys from the desk, Velma wrapped his arm around her shoulder for him to lean on her. She slipped her arm around his hip to guide him as he shakily turned the torch on and ignited the surface before him with its battery light. He walked wearily with straight legs pounding the ground with tension through his black heels. She could feel the tremble on the ground and the sharp sound his foot made with the tiles. They became the tempo for their walk out of the dimly illuminated Office and into the dark hallways. The light shook before Shaggy, his mind racing, knowing what waited in the shadows and theorizing what could lie inside Freddy’s body made his mind spin faster. His eyes widened, his brain had never raced so fast before and his body seemed to shake slightly from its speed. His skin never faltered from its pale shade and in seeing this, Velma’s heart rate skyrocketed, knowing she needed to get him to the bathroom to calm him down some or at least take him outside for some air.

The scent of death seemed to cling to everything in the pizzeria, the stench of gore seemed to resonate strongly from the stage and bathroom and in smelling this, Velma made a quick turn for the Kitchen. Outside would be better beneath the moonlight, surrounded by fresh air, Shaggy stumbled, falling into her almost. He immediately regained himself, allowing Velma to lead and trusting that she knew what was best.

“Like I thought –“ even his voice was soft and scared, like a child who had endured their first nightmare.

“You need some air.” She spoke gently and Shaggy nodded slowly, agreeing with her. 

He knew what she was doing, he knew why she was doing it, and he immediately regretted breaking in front of her. He always put up his guard for her to show that he wasn’t weak and yet, he knew he was human just like anyone else. He knew that this case would be the death of him and only now was that statement unfurling at the possible expense of his mentality. Shaggy couldn’t bear to let that happen, it was what? Only two more shifts? Then this entire case would hopefully be closed and their lives would go about as though nothing ever happened. Except he knew that he, like the others, wouldn’t be able to forget this case. It would haunt him for days to come. Of children shoved inside animatronics and murdered by a mystery man and how those mechanical animals would race down the halls of his mind, entering his dreams. He would hear their metallic footsteps in his daily routine and jump as though they were right behind him. Shaggy knew this and as much as he wasn’t anticipating returning to the Office, he wasn’t also anticipating the aftermath of this mystery.

Even now he swore he heard the pounding of metallic footsteps behind- wait a minute. Freddy was still roaming the floor and Shaggy knew this, but he also knew that Freddy never roamed near the kitchen. Yet those footsteps seemed to grow closer and he knew that everyone except Freddy was in the Office. Foxy, Chica, and Bonnie were well on their side now and by no means would any harm be caused by them. Freddy though was still vicious and violent towards everyone in the Office and the two souls that roamed the Kitchen. He dared not look back, he didn’t want to turn around and see what he believed to be behind him. Gripping Velma’s shoulder, he picked up the pace. The harsh footsteps now overpowered by the cry of a child crackling from an old voice box and his mind reeled, another child that needed to be connected with one of their members. Who would it be this time? The only ones that didn’t establish a connection were Scooby Doo and Daphne. How the animatronics would even go about creating a connection with Scooby Doo was something that no one was anticipating to see in fear of the possibly costly results. Scooby Doo spoke as best as a canine could and how far that would take him in this case, no one was certain. It was something they didn’t want to discover at the risk of losing their best friend, even though they would be with him should a connection between him and a child’s spirit should arise. 

The footsteps quickened, beckoning him to listen to them, he was practically running now with Velma in tow. She was keeping in good time, her eyes following the light – when did the Kitchen get so long? She threw pots and pans at the oncoming animatronic behind them who roared in despair, its low tone warped with the wear and tear of time. The metal feet were met with clashing of pots and pans and even a pizza board that she threw. With the door in sight, Velma made a bolt for it – the most she had run in this venture and she knew that sooner or later she would have to sprint. It didn’t bother her in any means and welcomed it as exercise. Staying in the flashlight’s glow, Velma threw her weight against the door as it fell open without hesitation. Tossing her hand to Shaggy, he immediately took it and felt her pull him into the cool air of night. Slamming the door on the animatronic now finally catching up to them, Shaggy locked the door and was met with a deep growl from the other side. 

That was too close, like many times before. There were only so many times Shaggy could take and he knew this. He had his limits and while they were strengthened over the years, he felt as though this case easily broke all his build up. In the Office, he felt himself began to unravel and even as their Kitchen chase ensured he could feel his cogs spinning faster, almost out of control. Even now they seemingly spun like unstoppable swirling tops and he drew his hands to the sides of his head to drone out their dance and the seemingly endless string of voices of all the children he had heard so far. Tabitha’s voice loomed especially in his head, for she was the one who had a strong connection to him, believing he was Daniel, a childhood friend who moved at the time of her murder. She was scared to let anyone especially Daniel see her beneath the wires and the more Shaggy thought about what she looked like among the wires, the more he felt his head spin.

Velma knew it wasn’t healthy to snap those who were having episodes, but not wanting to lose him, she knew she had to break those rules. It would probably send him into a deeper issue, but she had to run that risk. Quickly reaching out, she gripped his forearms, her thumbs on his veins and his eyes widened at the touch. Slipping herself into his view, she locked eyes with him, concern still bubbling and brewing in her orbs as she felt her heart pound like a hummingbird’s wings. She wondered if he felt her pulse through his’ which now throbbed and thrummed against her fingers. It was the heart of a scared child, just like it was many times before when the monsters were too frightening and threatening or when people didn’t know when to stop fighting and confess their crimes. She knew Shaggy scared easily and that was more a lov- hippie than a fighter, yet he knew when to put up his dukes which was incredibly rare. Come to think of it, the only time he really had fought for anyone was Crystal and well, Velma herself. He did rescue her from Chica’s wrath many times before and in knowing this, Velma suddenly felt her heart explode a little in happiness. To know she was one of the few women that he had broken his mantra for just to see her live another day and be safe. Yet her happiness was cast to the side when she took note of his glossy eyes, an oncoming of tears to fall to which he didn’t want her to see. Bowing his head, he hoped his scruffy hat hair covered up what he didn’t want exposed. Gritting his teeth he felt his heart twist and turn as though it were on fire as it expelled warmth and sent it humming and racing throughout his body. 

Men were always believed to be the strong ones. It was a societal belief that had been enforced through television, magazines, and literature which Shaggy and Velma knew all too well. Even Fred carried out the stereotype of being the strong man, but this trait came from his natural leadership abilities formed by his time with the gang. Shaggy didn’t lead much, he knew he wasn’t that sort of type, but he knew he had to when the situation required it. It was rare for him to lead, but often he would suggest ideas for cooperation. His strength came from the acknowledgement that his friends would always have his back – especially Velma. Here she stood before him with teary eyes she tried to hide behind those thick framed glasses which he swore always made her look rather adorably nerdy. She was a nerd already, but something about those glasses made him smile some. He couldn’t find it to smile now, not with his mind unfurling like a cat playing with a ball of yarn. He could feel his temples thrumming with the culmination of his pulse, what he had experienced so far of Fazbear’s, and the woman who he secretly adored standing before him under a rather full moon. 

“Velms,” Shaggy spoke softly, the fear slowly attempting to slip from his voice and failing. He grit his teeth in frustration and swallowed any emotion or tears that tried to crawl up his throat. 

“I-“

“You don’t have to say anything,” she murmured as calmly as she could, her concern filled eyes never leaving his’.

Velma was always so understanding and in knowing this, he smiled inside. His heart suddenly felt warm, no longer the dull brick that had been dragged in fear throughout this venture. Yet terror still followed it like a second shadow, not only at the thoughts of his mind now speedily undoing itself causing his head to ache terribly, but also the fact of the children in the machines, facing Freddy and Golden Freddy, and the very thought that there was a good chance he could still lose Velma to either bear.

No was certain as to what would trigger Freddy or Golden Freddy into becoming their ally. But the very idea that he could still lose Velma to either one caused his mind to accelerate in its unravelling and once more his fingers reached deeper for his skull, in an attempt to slow down the gears within. Velma held his forearms, his grip on reality to remind him why he should keep fighting to try and retain his sanity. It increased even more when he heard a rather small sniffle before him and was met with Velma’s tear rimmed eyes. His own eyes widened, curious at her tears, but saddened to see someone he secretly loved so dearly. His heart panged loudly in pain and for a moment he believed himself to be the cause of her sudden sadness. He couldn’t bear that notion and he swallowed the idea hard, knowing he had to be there for her as she was for him.

“I-I’m sorry,” Velma spoke as clearly as possible. “I-I didn’t….want it to…t-to- excuse me,” never freeing his forearms, she wiped her tears on her sweater, the fabric shade matching her rosy, puffed cheeks.

It was incredibly rare for Velma to cry because she knew her limits, what she could handle, and how to manage her fears. She was strong in her own right and knew how to hold herself as such, having told monsters to stop their actions or for them to leave in many mysteries before. She had so much strength especially back then, but now, she began to wonder, what happened to all of it? Clearly, she should have been tough enough for this and was so far, but within the last few hours of examining and speaking with Chica, she could feel terror arise once more and her courage give way. Her heart twitched sharply and she swallowed hard, trying to regain her diction and composure, but failing drastically.

“I didn’t w-want it, to-to turn into this.” She continued and Shaggy watched her with gentle eyes.

“Velms, like, you didn’t know this would like happen.”

“No! But I should-I should h-have thought this through.”

She was a fool – of course anyone would lose their mind from the situation at hand. Corpses in the cogs, rumored murder machines in the shapes of animals, an unsolved gory crime, it was enough to drive the mind mad. Bowing her head, Velma didn’t want to lock eyes with someone who she was supposed to be strong for in their time of need. She felt selfish – something she never was and in this moment she absolutely abhorred herself for feeling the way she did. Her shoulders rolled and shuddered, a chilly breeze passing them by causing Shaggy to break from her grip and pull her into a tight embrace. As if by some internal command, she wrapped her arms tightly around his lanky frame, holding him close to her, terrified that she would lose him in any waking second. Goosebumps rose with her skin and not even that sweater or skirt could stop her from trembling from her tears and the sudden chill. His guard suit only provided so much warmth, but he knew she needed it more than him. Once more his chin found its way to her crown, holding her in place while knowing she wouldn’t run off, but he adored this closeness with her. Yes, he had hugged her and held her many times in their lives together, but this, this felt like their embrace before when Chica had struck his back with the office chair. This felt needed on multiple levels of intimacy, solace, and refuge, if not many more emotions and concepts. Shaggy swore he heard their hearts beating at the same, untamed fast pace which only made him hold her closer in fear of her heart exploding and he would lose her forever.

In these moments beneath the moon on this chilly night, the world has grown rather still. Not even the stars dared to blink their light like miniature lighthouses on a desolate shore, guiding ships homeward. It was as though they stopped time with their worries and tears and nothing could be done to reverse the spell. Velma swore it was seemingly long ago when she felt this way in the office with Shaggy after Chica’s strike. How did time go forward again? Did she even care? No and for once, she didn’t want the world to continue on with its daily on-goings of babies being born, clouds drifting, rains falling, tides rising, people dying, not in this moment anyway. In this time she wanted to be with the man who held her as though the Earth was about to crumble beneath their feet without any hope of stopping it. Her fingers gripped the back of his shirt, rooting herself to the ground and to his presence, not wanting to release him in fear she should lose him.

Perhaps, she began to quietly wonder to herself, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much if she had lost him to the machines and he died or frayed in knowing that she loved him. The very idea that he could die shuddered her soul terribly. Shaggy was by far one of her closest friends and was very near and dear to her heart as a romantic interest and someone meaningful to her. He had been with her through every single fraction of her life and for it to be all lost by the hand of some mechanical monstrosity was enough to make her blood run cold and her body to shiver even more so that his one arm slithered up her back, where his hand clasped her right shoulder, holding her closer. His other hand rested at her hip, fingers reclining on the little curve where her skirt began beneath the sweater. She could feel her head reeling and swimming in the words she would have to say now to spare herself (and possibly him) the pain of never knowing if they truly loved each other should one of them die at Fazbear’s. While they hadn’t died so far and only sustained mental trauma and at best a few injuries, there was still the notion that Golden Freddy and Freddy wouldn’t be too kind. Freddy’s connection would have to be established with Daphne, the only person left in their group who hadn’t had a connection with a spirit. As for Golden Freddy, would that be Scooby Doo? It seemed plausible, but how that would work they didn’t know.

“I-I don’t,” she stammered through her tears, taking a deep breath, her voice was slightly muffled against his shirt. “I-I-I don’t want to lose you.”

“Like, I don’t want to lose you either, Velms.”

They would usually say things like this to each other in times when the idea of dying was a slightly probable event that could occur. But now at Fazbear’s, the chances seemed much higher. Back then they would say those words as tokens of friendship and an expression of their close relationship should anything terrible part them. However, things were much this different this time and that phrase could be taken in context as another repeated phrase of concern for each other or something deeper. Something much, much, deeper that Velma had been feeling all this time and now burst like a balloon in her chest – much like Shaggy. She swore her heart stopped beating at the phrase and attempt to decipher its context, only to be caught off guard by his fingers beneath her chin.

His fingers had freed themselves from her side and tilted her chin upward so that she saw through her foggy glasses, through her tears, and met with his glossy eyes. A few lines of water had streamed down his face, but he hadn’t made it known, more concerned for her. He noticed that her cheeks were as red as pizza sauce, having them been red before during her cry, but now the shade had grown exponentially at his action. She hadn’t seen him do it and he wasn’t sure what exactly possessed him to follow through with this action, but something inside told him it was the right thing to do and that he wanted to do this since the start of this case – no! Since many times before when she was either taken by some brash diplomat or when they were working on mysteries without any clues or when they were just working their jobs and never had the time to see each other or when they were in each other’s company doing whatever they pleased in comfort. It was a long time desire that was finally being carried out by the secret love he had harbored for her and the overall fear that if they were to go back inside then one of them could possibly die. It wasn’t always good to run risks like these, especially with love on the line and so, despite his fear, despite the what ifs buzzing in his head, despite every single doubt that had appeared in his head and heart, he knew he had to convey his emotions to her in some way.

Velma didn’t protest now, not even as Shaggy’s face neared hers. Rather, she welcomed it, especially when his lips met hers.


	17. I'm Here

Well, Daphne DID tell Velma to let him come to her and this was no exception. It was everything they had wanted. All those years of what ifs and other questions were resolved in this kiss. Every emotion that was ever romantically felt for each other came to fruition, blossoming in their mouths like an endless garden. Pulling Velma in, Shaggy allowed his arms to enfold her in a comforting embrace that caused even more warmth to surge throughout her like a streak of fire. In turn, her arms held him close to her, unleashing the same feeling.

Were it not for the situation at hand they would have kept kissing and go no farther than that. You didn’t reach second base on the first kiss or so they believed. It was their old fashion morals kicking in and yet this moment was all they could have ever asked for. To be beneath a glowing moon and while in the not most of romantic of places, it would later constitute as a place of meaning for them. It would be a place that held all the danger they could ever dream of: of restless children’s souls inside animatronics that leaked puss and mucus and blood every minute, of unsettled spirits locked in the bodies of seemingly rogue animatronics who would throw chairs and fight, of a mysterious Purple Man, of every jarring image possible of murderous mutilations of children, all in a decomposing pizzeria that only remained in business for so long. They had endured strange and even unruly cases before but this, this took the Scooby Snack. Yet for this kiss, for this unveiling of secret emotions to tumble forth from such a case made this mystery seemingly not so bad – in that moment, anyway.

As their lips slowly left each other’s, the world crawled into view. The moon hung overhead, a quiet onlooker of their tender moment and the grass around them, while old, still glowed with a few faint fireflies. Summer had come and gone, leaving the fireflies to dance a few more times before the waking of winter. The pizzeria loomed behind them, causing disturbing thoughts that lingered in the back of their heads to slowly creep forward, monsters waiting to strike. Velma knew Shaggy had it worse than her and remembering this, her eyes flickered with concern.

“Shaggy, we have two nights left.”

“I…I don’t know if I can like do it, Velms. It’s too much.”

His crestfallen eyes made her heart pitter patter with worry. She had never seen him like this before, knowing how difficult it was to make the man depressed or go insane. Yet, she knew he had to do it. He knew he had to do it with the possible cost of losing his mind like he nearly did earlier. It wasn’t an entertaining thought to either one of them, but it had to be done. 

A little tug pulled at Velma’s lips and her lips curled upward some. Perhaps, it would be best, if they went into this venture as best as they could through support and the reassurance that everyone would be there for him. While Shaggy and Velma knew he would have reassurance, perhaps, the stakes would be much higher now knowing what awaited him at the end of this mystery. His girl, his orange sweater woman at a place they would both enjoy, eventually in each others’ arms without having to worry about Purple Guy and the animatronics. He would do anything for this idea and the relationship to come. She knew this too. Never leaving his arms, she looked him in the eyes and spoke in a playful yet soothing tone.

“Would you do it for a Scooby Snack?”

How could she ask that at a time like this? His eyes flickered though at the mentioning of those snacks. It had been a while since he had them (Scooby usually ate them all) let alone had been offered them. The thoughts of the children’s’ murders and dismemberments that rose in his head were suddenly stopped by something. Something old and forgotten about this case, something nostalgic in how she would always ask that when the situation grew intensely dire. Somehow it snapped him out of the fear that had possessed him and even how she asked it in that playful tone.

“No way.”

He couldn’t help but smirk, recalling those old days when everything was simpler than this and they were just starting out. Young college kids who didn’t know the ways of the world and all its mysteries. While most criminals wore the monster masks, others were real. The zombies of Crescent Moon Island in the bayous, the ghoul school, they were all real, and conquered by sheer force of will brought on by these little snacks. 

“Two Scooby Snacks?”

Velma asked through a smile and he couldn’t help but to laugh softly, smiling himself. She always had a way of making him smile in situations like this. She was the brains and support when everyone needed it the most. yes, Fred was the rebel rouser, the upbeat leader, but sometimes he couldn’t raise their spirits – not like Velma could. All those times she had asked him to do something in exchange for a Scooby Snack, how many times had she done that? Shaggy had lost count, not that he minded. Yet he always found himself waiting to hear that question emerge from her lips and when he did, he knew what would come next. He would be a fool for her words every time and he didn’t care.

“Nuh-uh.”

He was grinning now. A grin as wide as the moon and Velma’s heart pounded faster in seeing how she helped him and how he looked adorable with the expression on his face. Yet with that grin and the coy tone he spoke in, she knew he was teasing her now. He could do that, she allowed him. Teasing never harmed anyone until comfort zones were breached and then it was a matter of questioning: to continue or wait? From what she had seen of his past relationships, Shaggy was like her – slow and steady, understanding the partner day by day, knowing what made them laugh and cringe. Shaggy had known Velma his entire life though and vice versa; it was needless to say they had grown close to each other and were comfortable with each other. Yet they would still treat this as a relationship and not force each other into anything other than what they were comfortable with. Teasing, like this was acceptable, and Velma smirked.

“How bout an entire Mystery Machine filled with Scooby Snacks?”

“Well….”

An ENTIRE Mystery Machine of Scooby Snacks? There was no way Scooby Doo could eat that all and maybe for once Shaggy would be able to steal a few. He thought about this and knew he couldn’t let her win yet – he was having too much fun, especially with her in his arms. Besides, he didn’t want to return to Fazbear’s yet, not when this moment of fun and realism was breaking through the insane nightmare he had been enduring.

“Maybe.”

He smirked. He was playing tough and she often liked that about him because it showed that the man could be a little rough despite his calm and easygoing nature, even if they were as playful as this. She would have to pull out the big guns now.

“All right….how about an entire Mystery Machine filled with Scooby Snacks AND a first date?”

Ooh she drove a hard bargain. As she posed this offer, Velma moved in as close as possible to him so that she was chest to sternum with him. Her smirk turned into an alluring yet wicked grin and he felt his spine shiver. The wind pushed her perfume onto him and he absorbed the smell as though it were a delicious feast waiting to be devoured. The smirk gave way exposing a rather shocked expression, his cheeks blushing red at the idea of taking Velma on a date. Something he had always wanted to do but life or time was never on his side until now. Now, after Fazbear’s, their new life in a relationship would unravel before them and they would indulge in the challenges and pleasures of a relationship. No longer as friends, but as people who were close to each other, walking together in love.

“Well,” he started, needing to regain his composure as Velma laughed in her throat. “Like I know this…observatory in..Jannington…like it’s not too far from here….I like figured…you’d like that.”

Shaggy had heard of the Jannington observatory years ago when it was first built and how Velma’s eyes lit up at the elation of another observatory being opened. Another chance to see the stars, another place where people could be educated on things far beyond their grasp, another place to go and learn things she might not have known about. He wanted to see the light in her eyes sparkle again like it had done before when she initially told him about its grand opening.

Usually he was confident in his emotions. Usually he was confident in asking a woman out and even confessing his feelings to her. But in the case of Velma Dinkley all confidence was shattered – he didn’t need to tell her how he felt, he already did so with strength and the underlining fear that one of them could die in this place. Now it was just a matter of going on a date with her and being the best he could be as a gentleman, a boyfriend, and as someone who admired her like Scooby Snacks.

“It’s a date.” Velma quickly retorted and Shaggy swore he felt himself melt into her hands as he kissed her once more. This time it was one little peck on her lips. Then another on her cheek, then another, and another, until she was laughing hard and falling into his arms while a goofy grin plastered itself onto his face. Perhaps he could hang on for two more nights.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The return to the office was surprisingly rather….quiet. Almost too quiet. It was the sort of quiet that was alarming and tension filled as though something catastrophic had happened or would happen. From the stage, Freddy Fazbear’s eyes glowed and watched Shaggy and Velma as they entered the hall. No longer did she drag him along as he grasped for some form of sanity, but now he walked in a seemingly more confident person who knew what he was fighting for and why he had to survive the two remaining nights. Only did their paces quicken when they heard heavy monotonous footsteps leave the stage and walk across the tiled floor. Freddy was subtle and observant and knew how they walked and breathed and the distance it would take to reach them and for them to reach the office. It was possibly one of the more terrifying animatronics in that it never pounced unlike the others, but rather it took its time.

“G-g-g-get in there….” Andrew called out to the duo as they walked faster down the east hall. “I’lllllllllllll hold h-him off…”

Foxy turned from the office door way and jolted to the hallway’s mouth, its eyes watching Freddy with every move. The bear did not seem pleased or amused and rather, continued its quickened walk towards Shaggy and Velma. While it was nowhere near the start of the hallway, it was still unnerving to hear those feet clunk on the tile as the sound echoed through the pizzeria.

Andrew had trusted Selene and Tabitha to behave themselves while he was defending Shaggy and Velma from another spirit. They seemed perfectly fine while Shaggy and Velma left to take a break from the madness. However, Tabitha’s suit was now stained in blood and mucus from where her eye sockets would be on the suit having cried in believing she had done something to scare Daniel away. Angered and sorrowed by herself, she broke down and had slumped on the floor, tearing up and crying. Daniel was her last connection to the real world other than her mother who always ventured to Fazbear’s to learn about her daughter or anything else that had happened on the night of her vanishing. Even then she couldn’t speak with her mother because her mother was always attempting to enter places where customers weren’t allowed or Tabitha was occupied with children or adults – scanning their faces in hopes of recognizing Purple Guy and giving him one for.

Selene, thankfully, had controlled her own fury and managed to slink down next to Tabitha whose wails sent Scooby Doo hiding behind Fred. Loud and long she moaned in despair at feeling so lonely again – just like she did when she was murdered. At how she couldn’t even speak to anyone , at how she had finally found someone she could talk to who could help her and pull her from the fear she had mired in for so long only to scare them off. Selene swallowed her own concern of possibly having done the same thing to Velma and convinced Tabitha that her connection was getting some air, not because of her smell or appearance, but rather having been locked up in the office for so long. People needed space and it was all right to take a breather and while now was not the best time, he probably needed it or else he would break. The word ‘break’ made Tabitha cry out in protest as she tried to curl up on herself, her bulky bunny body preventing her from doing so, the limbs seizing and falling lifelessly on the floor. Selene sighed, the stench of death emerging from her beak and looked over at the Bonnie suit that bled from the eyes. Looking through Chica’s eyes, she watched as the spirit tossed Bonnie’s head back so that it rested against the wall and from its mouth spilled that disgusting scent that made Fred and Scooby recoil to the other side of the office.

Selene for once fell silent and found it funny that normally she was the one crying and wailing, but now, now everything seemed different as though the tables were turned. Albeit, Selene was still enraged at what had occurred, but for the sake of Tabitha she remained calm and reassured her that they would be freed soon. Fred pardoned himself for verbally intruding on their moment, but agreed that they would do their best to help free their spirits by any means. Even Andrew sided with Fred and convinced Tabitha that he had faith that they would be released from their mechanical coffins. This seemingly helped Tabitha as she allowed Fred to help her stand and claimed that she couldn’t wait to see Daniel once more.

With Andrew now taking guard at the east hall, Shaggy and Velma hurriedly walked down the corridor. However, as they neared the office Velma’s eyes were drawn to the walls as though transfixed on the shade of malicious purple tinged with mold. Through the dark shade, even darker letters appeared causing her to stare in confusion and her mind begin to race.

“Velms?”

“It’s me.” Her voice was monotonous, but her eyes were as wide as saucers.

“What?” Looking over, Shaggy’s eyes grew the same size as Velma’s.

“Like,” Shaggy continued, his voice trembling some. “Weren’t there posters here?”

“Yes! But now like, why do the walls say –“

“It’s me.” A hushed voice echoed through the hall, seemingly causing the office lights to extinguish. Shaggy immediately grabbed Velma’s hand, pulling her close to him. Together, they slowly backed away from the walls which seemed to stretch over their heads and loom over them as though they were insignificant to the restaurant around them. They hadn’t done anything wrong since they re-entered the pizzeria other than walk through the kitchen and dining room area with silence. They didn’t stare into anything, but the shadows that seemed to swarm around them like a horde of angered bees. Their flash light only guided them so much, revealing what chairs and pots and pans and other objects stood in their paths. Not once did they flicker the light onto Freddy, worried that it may come to life and chase them once more. Besides, its eyes glimmered wildly in the dark so it was no mistake that the bear could easily be seen from a good distance away.

“Zoinks!”

Shaggy swore jack rabbits suddenly inhabited his legs as they ached to take Velma and run as fast and as far away as possible. Yet Velma’s body suddenly felt frozen and stiff as though she had just came from the Arctic Circle. Both knew they had to move, but doing so didn’t seem so easy when paralyzed with fear. His brain screamed at him to sprint, to bolt, to jolt, to do anything to get out of the predicament they were in, and Velma found that her heart pounded just as quickly as his.

“Run!” Andrew called into the void as Shaggy whipped his head around and in the darkness those glowing eyes of Freddy Fazbear revealed once more. Yet something seemed different about them and squinting, Shaggy noticed that they were the eyes of someone who was stuffed inside that suit. It was his turn for his skin to become pale and cold like a snowflake and Velma felt the goosebumps rise on his arms.

“Shaggy?” She called to snap him out of it and shaking his head to bring himself back, he sharply looked down, finding her eyes in the darkness. In his mind, her hazel orbs were replaced by those blue, veiny eyes that he just saw and he fell back from her.

“IT’S ME!” Freddy yelled now and the sound tore through the hall like a sonic boom. Velma sharply looked over and saw those eyes, those distorted wide eyes captured in final moments of fear when someone was stuffed in that suit. Her heart sank for a moment as she froze, now understanding what was possibly running through Shaggy’s head. Quickly tossing her hand to him, he caught it and tried to slowly shuffle himself into the office, his eyes never leaving Freddy’s. Those eyes would haunt him in his dreams to come because he knew what lied behind them. He knew what rested in that animal suit and he knew everything about it – the smell, what the child looked like, why it was there, and his brain reeled from his imagination now working extensively to pain the picture in his head.

“SHAGGY!” Once more her voice pierced his head, reminding him why he had to hold on for two more nights, just for two more nights then they would be on a date in Jannington beneath an observatory’s wonders, seeing the stars, grabbing a good bite to eat, and just being themselves away from the nightmare that was Fazbear’s.

**“IT’S ME! WHY DOESN’T ANYONE RECOGNIZE ME?!”**

Entering the office with Velma in tow, his flashlight fell upon Bonnie’s face only to recoil some as the light fell upon Bonnie’s face. Velma felt him step backward, his body trembling in fear as she poked her head into the office. Everything seemed normal and suddenly her heart dropped at the notion that maybe he was seeing things that she wasn’t. Sharply looking up, his widened eyes caused her alarm as she swallowed any of her own terror that constructed in her throat.

“Shaggy! Shaggy what do you see?” She did her best not to make her voice waver or falter in fright. Though Fred could easily detect her worried tones and quickly turned his head to see Shaggy as pale as a ghost, the flashlight never leaving Bonnie’s face.

Through Shaggy’s eyes, he watched as Bonnie’s ivory orbs change to glossy ebony eyes as though they were overrun with shadows. Only a white pupil rested inside and dared not move, completely transfixed on him. His heart stopped beating and he swallowed hard, wondering if anyone else was seeing what his eyes were revealing to him. Bonnie took a step closer to him and the jack rabbits in his legs died, not knowing where to run or hide to. In those glossy orbs he could see himself, a man shaken to the core from this dreadful place and wanting nothing more than to leave and be at ease. Yet he could not escape – he would never escape, no one would. Not even if this case was solved and the spirits were freed would they ever escape the images dancing in their head of children stuffed in the animatronic suits, that god awful smell of rotting flesh, and how they cried for freedom through old, static ridden voice boxes. Once more, he froze and felt his hand loosen on Velma’s grip.

“Daniel?” Tabitha questioned in a quiet tone, like a child who had accidentally broke something valuable. As she spoke, Bonnie’s glossy orbs fainted into darkness and gave way to empty eye sockets. There was no solace in those shadows, no sign of life despite the little girl inside crying for her friend. There was nothing, not even a glimmer of hope as his knees buckled under the darkness dominating his frame.

“Daniel?!” Shaggy dropped the flashlight. It hit the floor with a seemingly loud clunk and took away Bonnie’s nonexistent eyes, throwing the bunny body into the shadows along with everything else. In the darkness he could find no one – not Selene, not Velma, not Fred, not even Scooby Doo.

“I’m here,” Shaggy whispered softly, devoid of emotion, his mind unraveling as he swore he heard something like cogs turning in his head. 

He had to reassure Selene that he was there for the sake of the case so that she would not lose hope and that she would be freed. He had to do it even if it cost him his sanity and taking a deep breath, he felt those thoughts come reeling forward once more. A thousand darkened armies of the corpses resting in the cogs, all distorted and mangled beyond repair, and he felt his hands break to the sides of his head, the sound of Freddy Fazbear screaming down the hall merging with the children’s crying in his mind. Andrew attempting to coax the ghost in the bear rang in his head, much like everything else. A cacophony of everyone calling for him, trying to bring him to his senses to remind him to hold on for two more nights, just two more nights.

The lights went on.

The generator kicked back into gear.

“Huh,” Fred wondered aloud, his eyes looking to the ceiling and all the devices that turned on again. 

“Must have been a brief blackout. Old places like this usually have faulty wires and stuff like that.”

Of course, how could he have known? No one knew. For all they could have known the power could have ran out entirely. Shaggy’s eyes sluggishly fell upon Bonnie’s face and where glossy orbs and darkness rested, there were ivory eyes rimmed with crimson tears. Something inside couldn’t be any happier to see that or feel Velma as she tightly wrapped her arms around him, head buried into his back. She would never let him go – not even in his moments of near sanity loss. In knowing this, Shaggy smiled some, his mind easing slowly and the images starting to fade away into the recesses of his mind. He knew they would be there, waiting to strike at his most vulnerable moments mostly likely in his sleep or whenever his mind would wander. He would not anticipate those moments and holding Velma’s hands, he watched as Scooby Doo retrieved the flashlight for him and nuzzle his knee. Even Fred patted him on the back, a subtle reminder to assure him he would always be with him as he had been for many years prior. With his shoulders easing, his mind was able to recline in this temporary moment of comfort and looking up at Bonnie he smiled softly.

“I’m here.” He stated once more, the emotion gradually returning to his tired voice and if Tabitha could smile, she would.

Freddy still called down the hall as the message on the walls were replaced with posters. Chica, Bonnie, Freddy, and Foxy were portrayed in their seemingly happiest and cleanest appearances and staring into the office. The irony was indisputable as Shaggy looked between the clean Bonnie in the poster and the bloodied Bonnie before him. Even Chica was covered in some blood as its eyes darted between Bonnie and the people in the office. 

“IT’S ME!!!!” Freddy shrieked from the mouth of the east hall and Foxy glared daggers at him, the soul penetrating through the animatronic.

“Trrrrrrrrrrrrroy, stop it! T-they…..they’re…. trying tooooooooo help us!” Andrew coaxed, attempting to calm the spirit in the bear suit despite his malfunctioning voice box. Yet this did not aid any as the bear threw himself more at Foxy who blocked his advances with rusty arms and joints.

“PURPLE! WHERE IS PURPLE?!”

“Purple Guy?” Fred asked himself, his eyes narrowing in wonder. Clearly, if he knew the other ghosts’ names he would call them by Tabitha or Bonnie since Bonnie was a purple animatronic. Then again, Fred wouldn’t blame Troy for seeking out Purple Guy to gain revenge for his untimely death.

“Puuuuuuuuuuurple….Guy?” Andrew questioned softly and the bear gnashed its teeth in anger, biting into Foxy’s shoulder rather roughly. Andrew’s spirit did not falter or flinch at the locking of Freddy’s teeth on the mechanical fox. He allowed it to happen as Freddy’s old fingers gripped the hips of Foxy and gripped the wires. Andrew knew Troy was acting out, any six year old would when thrust into a situation like this. When there was no one to turn to let alone talk to and all the anger in the world was pent up inside, sometimes the only way to unleash it was to take it out on objects. What were they more than souls possessing objects? He could feel his wires being tugged and Foxy’s orbs flicker on and off like a fading lightbulb.

“Troooooooy….stooooop it! It-it-it’ll be…..blamed on the night guard….. i-if you ruin-“

**“I DON’T CARE! WHERE IS PURPLE DRESS?!”**

Before Shaggy had felt his nerves run cold at Chica wanting to see Velma aka “Miss Baline”. Now it was Fred’s turn to feel his spine run rigid and freeze as though someone detached it from his body and threw it in the Arctic. Shaggy swore in the office light his friend’s skin never seemed so pale before until this moment. Granted, there were enough things in this case to make the man’s blood turn cold, but now he was feeling the entirety of the murder mystery. The children’s souls, their murders, their need for freedom, the mere heinous atrocities committed by Purple Guy, and God that smell – that smell that would haunt him to his grave. While all of it had terrified Fred Jones greatly, none of it could compare to the idea of Daphne being roughed about by Freddy Fazbear. Freddy was already dealing damage to someone who was only trying to help him and swallowing hard, he knew Foxy would defend them as well as Chica and Bonnie. The spirits within had befriended nearly all of them and in exchange for listening to them and attempting to free them, they would defend them. 

“Daphne,” Fred murmured to himself in shock. He should have known that sooner or later a spirit would call for her. While the surprise had not been a fully-fledged shocker, it still rattled his bones to know that the love of his life would be communicating with a potentially fatal being judging from how Freddy thrashed and gnawed at Foxy.

“She-she’s not hereeeeeeeee….”

At this remark, Freddy stopped wrestling with Foxy whose joints now creaked loudly, rusted with time. Tearing his jaw from Foxy’s shoulder, wires frayed causing electricity to sputter and spit across the tile. Sparks flickered wildly, briefly illuminating the hallway and giving way to Freddy Fazbear’s now dark pupils. Gone were those human baby blue orbs and Fred cringed as he watched Foxy stumble backward with a lifeless arm. With the shoulder exposing circuitry, the wires stopped wriggling, causing snaps of electricity to bounce back and forth between them. This continued for a few moments before the sparks died and the shadows plunged Freddy’s eyes once more into complete darkness. Fred watched as the shadows swallow the sparks, the only light exposing Freddy Fazbear, now concealing him in the dark. Knowing what and where Freddy was slightly reassuring. To know what the animatronic did and what it could do, was far more jarring than Fred could ever imagine. Gripping the door way, he watched as Freddy eyed him in the darkness and Fred felt that glare like a brick hitting a glass dish. It tore through him as though he were a child all over again and his mother stared at him for breaking something or doing something she wouldn’t approve of. He hadn’t felt a stare like that in years and swallowing hard, he swore he heard his heart stop.

**“BRING. HER.”** Freddy demanded, its eyes never leaving Fred as his widened eyes and terror ripped through him. For the sake of this mystery and getting closer to the culprit, Daphne had to come on the fourth night. As much as Fred didn’t want to acknowledge this, he knew he had to and nodding slowly, this seemed to appease Freddy Fazbear as it sulked into the dining area.


	18. Purple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry this hasn't been updated in a while. Sorry I actually haven't been posting anything in a while. The holidays and work have been keeping me from writing. That being said, here's the next chapter of Five Nights at Scooby's.

Carl had appeared to have left earlier than usual that day. Why, no one knew and no one even cared. This made it easy for Shaggy to bring everyone in with him on his shift as opposed to waiting a half hour in case should return if he had forgotten something. Besides, he didn’t want to bring Scooby Doo anymore, having been awakened by his dog’s howling from a nightmare the same day. When he asked what it was about, the canine did his best to convey what he saw in his head – of the inside of Chica’s mouth and all its rotting skin perfume wrapping him tight in paralysis, of those gnashing jaws from the animatronics, the crying children from the old voiceboxes. Shaggy hadn’t seen his partner so terrified in years and stayed awake the rest of the day, comforting him to the best of his ability until the dog managed to fall into a peaceful rest. To further help calm the canine, Fred, Velma, and Daphne had taken him with them to the final interview earlier that day. They believed it would good to get him some air and out of the hotel room. Granted, they had allowed him to roam about (and he did of his own curiosity) when no one was in the hotel room. He was able to roam about the town or wherever he pleased, as long as he avoided trouble to which he obliged. For the drive to the interview, he curled up in the back of the Mystery Machine, listening to the rhythm of tires on the tar. It relaxed him greatly even when he was able to stretch his legs once the van stopped at the residence.

Fred led the way up a cobblestone walkway, past the rose bushes trimming the lavish house beneath wide windows, and to the emerald door. Daphne followed, her eyes taking in the expansive house and wondering how this town was so wealthy let alone who could afford to live here. Granted, she was a successful woman herself, but she understood the value of a dollar. Sometimes she wondered if others knew the worth – she could tell by how they lived and what they considered their wants and needs. It was something she learned growing up and how bargains were sometimes the best varying from store to store. It was how she managed to get such lovely clothes for such little cost. 

A little chime echoed throughout the home as Fred pressed the doorbell. He was met with a woman no shorter than Velma with tangerine hair and a fierce look in her eyes as though someone had crashed into her car. Her lips were drawn into a straight line, to hide any intention of letting them inside and sighing rather gruffly, she tapped her flat rather impatiently. Fred always knew that women were scary especially when angered, but he wasn’t sure what he had done to cause this annoyance to bubble from her. His eyes never leaving the brutal stare of this woman, he cleared his throat.

“Excuse us, ma’am-“

“Listen, I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again. I don’t want what you’re selling me, now get-“

“We’re here to see a Mister Alderman.”

The last name caused her to fall silent, the lethal look in her eyes giving way to widened saucers as though recalling that name. It was though she had forgotten that name existed and her eyes faltered once more into concerned, brown orbs. Her brow furrowed and her lips drew into a wayward line that coincided with her crow’s feet, causing her eyes to seem thinner. Her slender fingers gripped the sides of her worn purple dress, repressing her anger and confusion for the people in front of her.

“I haven’t heard that name in a while….what’s that name to you?”

“We’re trying to investigate the case of the missing children from Freddy Fazbear’s piz-“

“Jared was a good man.” She started, her abruptness silencing Fred as Velma whipped out her notebook and began to jot down every word that came from the woman’s mouth. The friction held by her irritation began to melt like chocolate on a summer day. Her hands released the apron and rubbed the sweat off on her clothes. 

“A good man, but stern. Had a son named Troy who disappeared there. He only wanted his son to eat nothing, but healthy food and tried to steer him from that place as much as he loved it. But you know how boys are – they don’t listen, especially as children.”

“Would you happen to know where he is? Are you his wife?”

“His wife died during childbirth so she’s never been around….I used to be their housekeeper until he left. My name’s Delilah by the way, sorry. Anyway, then he just gave me the house. Said I could have kept his business, The Rosetta Scone bakery, running if I wanted to – but to be frank I can’t bake to save my life.” A soft chuckle escaped her lips, causing the tension between the two to lessen greatly.

“What a good man, I swear. Giving up his nice house and business just so he can get out of here to me. To me, of all people, a mere housekeeper. I turned his place into a flower shop. He always did say I had a green thumb.”

“Why did he leave town?”

“To forget what happened to Troy. That night I joined him at Fazbear’s and the last we saw Troy he was dancing with his friends. After that, we didn’t see him. Jared flew into such a rage – yelling and demanding where his son was, trying to get everywhere he shouldn’t have been; he almost got backstage, but they pulled him back for safety reasons. They had to get the cops on him and not even me trying to stop him helped. It made him worse, I think.”

“Did he see anything back there?”

Delilah fell silent for a moment, knowing the answer to Fred’s question and sighed. Defeat radiated from her as though she had lost a war and in knowing this, she leaned against the doorframe for support. Her hair captured fragments of the sun, much like Daphne’s and she smiled in how the purple dressed woman looked so much like her in her youth, even down to the unique shade. She used to wear purple in the same way she ate strawberry shortcake with a smile; it was because it made her happy and she was certain that Daphne felt the same. Purple was for those who knew they were like royals and held their heads high while being a bit flirty and kind. Daphne’s kind eyes were melted into orbs of worriment, never leaving the woman. She knew she had to answer Fred’s question and face the memories that surfaced in her head.

“There was one time…I did ask him that. It was when we were trying to figure out…what…happened exactly. I asked him if he saw anything backstage when he tried to get in and…,” Delilah paused, feeling a weight shifting her shoulders downward in contemplation and remembering Mister Alderman’s face and how tired and angered it was like a weary, dark storm in regard to Troy’s disappearance.

“He..he looked at me and he wanted to say something. He wanted to say…something…his eyes were wide and his mouth was parted. I remember all he could do was nod slightly. It was as though he was paralyzed with…fear…or something. I wanted to implore him, but he had to take a business call and we never spoke of it afterwards. Not too long after I asked him that question he just upped and left.”

“Do you know where he-“

“No. No note, no letter, nada.”

Fred knew that he would have to get backstage and that his memory wasn’t failing him. He recalled seeing something in the darkness of backstage. Something hidden and needing to be explored and he hoped that tonight wouldn’t be as chaotic so he could get back there.

Freddy Fazbear seemed like a handful and recalling how fiercely he shrieked for ‘purple dress’ and knowing that it meant Daphne, suddenly made the man’s heart stop beating. He knew the other animatronics and the gang would defend her, but still they were human and he wondered how long each animatronic could withstand the wrath of the brown bear. To lose Daphne let alone any of his friends would mentally murder him. While he had taken damage from Foxy, the wound was still healing some but it wasn’t as severe as before. He hadn’t informed Daphne that he was harmed – the last thing he needed to do especially in this case was worry her because he knew she was concerned already. She was concerned for everyone and herself as well as the children in regard to if their souls would be freed or not. While he cared about them too, he cared more for those who were alive. They were near and dear to him and in knowing this, he would have to take extra caution for tonight. He would keep close to Daphne and leave Scooby Doo in the hotel room to take a break from the menacing menageries of the pizzeria. Yes, that seemed like the perfect plan, now here’s hoping it went smoothly.

Quietly creeping through the kitchen at the start of the fourth shift, the gang stopped to hear something. Something echo, the sound of a door being opened followed by footsteps. Normal footsteps, not the clunky heavy metal sound of the animatronics. It could possibly be Carl which made Shaggy forget to breathe – had the man known what was happening after hours, everything would have been for naught. The man already knew that Shaggy had brought his dog with him on the shift which was already a strike against him. He didn’t care though, not with the case on their hands and the pizzeria closing very soon.

Daphne, Velma, and Fred quietly took cover beneath the counters while Shaggy poked his head out of the kitchen. Extinguishing his flashlight to avoid being caught, he saw a glowing orb nearly miss his face as it left the bathroom. It was small and for a moment he believed it to be a ghost orb, having seen those many times in cases before and slightly reeled some away from its glimmer. Instead a hand was connected to the light and it gave way to a man with a tired, sorrow ridden face and a purple hoodie. The face stared into the darkness, not connecting with Shaggy’s eyes, but only focusing on the stage where Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica stood like soldiers waiting to be ordered. Shaggy’s eyes widened at the possible thought that this could be Purple Guy and thanked the Gods he hadn’t been caught. Slowly slinking back into the kitchen, Shaggy pressed his back to the wall as Velma poked her head up and crept her way over to him, followed by the others.

“What is it?” Velma whispered.

“Like, I think it’s-“

“I’m sorry, bro. I…I never meant it.”

In the shadows, the gang’s eyes met in confusion. Ideas swarmed in their head as they poked their heads out of the kitchen doorway. They would dare not make a sound or even approach the man until they heard him out. They flashed their light so that it barely illuminated him and drew any attention toward them. The stranger’s flashlight was pointed upward, catching the face of Freddy Fazbear and briefly shining upon the flower bed in his hand. 

Daphne began to question if the man kneeling before the stage was Purple Guy. But why would a killer so disdainful and distasteful come back and plead forgiveness from ghosts? Yes they had seen cases like that before and they often sympathized with the person while acknowledging that their atonement would not excuse their actions. The murder of five children (including someone he called his ‘bro’) would never be excusable in their eyes, nor anyone else’s. Even so, why would Purple Guy murder his bro? It could have been an accident, but even then, how would he go about doing it? Daphne began to silently theorize as Velma’s brain searched for something. Something that she wondered had any connection to this man seemingly speaking to the animatronics. She mentally sought out some stored information she had remembered hearing about one little boy who went “missing” years ago after being attacked by an animatronic.

“This is the right one. It has to be, it’s the only bear on stage and I think…I think they got rid of the rabbit. The diner closed, so now it’s this place.”

The mystery man did not see the animatronics glare upon him. His purple hood covered his face and yet the shade sent their recognitions into a frenzy. Purple for the man who killed them, clearly the being before them was a masculine figure with his well built frame and well toned arms. As they scanned his body, the more purple fabric came into view and the more their eyes shrank from ivory orbs to miniscule, crimson dots.

“So this has to be it, right? Oh God please tell me I have the right one. I fucked up once before, I can’t fuck up again!”

A slither of his firm jaw line exposed itself, his eyes crestfallen on the flower wreath in his hands. His little brother liked flowers, especially the ones next to his hospital bed. They were some semblance that someone had cared for him even in his dying day. The man remembered that day all too well and how the little boy, so young, so full of life, was able to survive so long without a temporal lobe.

It was an incredible feat that the doctors had prided themselves in, but he had lost his voice and vocal functions. Within the temporal lobe rested Broca’s area, the main domain for voice control within the body. When that was taken from him, only the voice box remained –a mere ghost of what he could do. He could have had it easily removed, but the doctors were persistent to make him fully right again and give him the ability to speak once more like some God. They played God with a child and while the parents were thrilled with it (they only saw it as healing their son to the utmost of their ability), he hated it. Humans were the epitome of humanity, they were not toys for doctors or victims of Gods. They were fragile and could only endure so much – especially for little boys like him. His older sibling was no different and yet he pushed his hatred aside just so the doctors could repair the damage he had brought upon his little brother by shoving him headfirst into the mouth of Golden Fredy.

“Hey little man, I-I heard this place….was closing- shit, why am I?” Even in the darkness, they could still see the man dragging his arm across his face. His attempt not to cry was failing as he swallowed and sobbed and recollected his thoughts before continuing. 

“Mom and dad….dad did all...all they could for a funeral…but..it’s not the same. It was a miracle….they saved you while they c-c-could. They-they l-l-left, y’know. Th-they couldn’t….stand it h-h-here…stand m-me for…for what I…I did..“

Bonnie’s crimson dots darted to Chica’s who in turn gazed upon Freddy whose glare was so powerful it could have moved a crowd in an instant. Yes, this was him. This had to be him. To have the gall to return to his place of murder only to leave a flower bed for those lost here by his hand. What was he now, a sudden sympathizer? The man’s words didn’t even register in Freddy’s system nor Troy’s mind, too overcome with rage at the scene unraveling before him. Were he alive, he would have slugged this malicious man by now as hard as his little fists could.

“We thou-tho-thought it…it had a safety lock….it’d stop…once…once it f-f-f-felt your head, fuck we-w-we didn’t know....that Purple Guy knew….that f-f-fuck… “

As quietly as possible, Freddy deftly moved from his position on stage to the very front. His tall frame loomed over the sobbing young man and focusing intently on the man’s being. His words had fallen upon deaf cog filled ears submerged in anger at what they believed to be the person who had brought this all upon them. They had the same height, the same frame, they even wore the same purple shade. This had to be him.

“I-i-i-it’s brown…now….the..the one th-th-thatbityou– shit! Shit I-I didn’t w-w-want to cry. It’s b-b-brown…t-t-the one th-that bit you…it…it was gold before...m-m-might havefaded….f-f-f-fuck please tell me t-t-this is the one!”

Velma bit back a gasp of shock and quietly congratulated her brain for being correct. This man was more than likely, from the Bite of 87 and his little bro that he mourned for was a missing child. That child could have only survived for so long after losing his temporal lobe. He must have been a brave little boy and Velma felt her heart twinge in sorrow and pain for him. The mentioning of Purple Guy caused her eyes to widen, Daphne’s theories to halt, and everyone in the room to fall silent at the sound of the man’s sobbing. Perhaps he knew something about him and maybe that would bring them one step closer to finding him and solving this mystery. Swallowing her fear, she started to run towards the stage.

“Velms!”

“If..if t-thisisyou, can you f-f-forgive me littlem-“

“Wait, sir!” Velma cried out and in the glow of the flashlight, she saw the face of a young man. Sunken eyes exposed his exhaustion of having to cope with a tragedy he had endured and performed years ago. The darkness on his skin exposed those endless of nights of trying to sleep to avoid what trauma unraveled in his head. His ashy eyes grew some at the presence of another person here of all places and wondered what she was doing here and why, causing his semi-stunned expression to twist into a rough scowl. 

He had finally managed to get out of therapy not too long ago, haunted by the event that he and his friends had unintentionally unraveled. His therapist and the town’s pastor said it would be best to return to the place of the incident and atone for his sins. Speak to his brother the best way he could, tell him everything and anything that came to thought. Vent it all out and let it go as if he were standing before him. It would be thought of as a proper, final farewell other than the funeral his parents were able to scrape together. 

He knew he would be caught trespassing by some owners and not even the rumors of other missing children and blood ridden animatronics could ward him away. He had to do what he believed was right in hopes to restore his sanity. This was his night of clarity, his moment of atonement – he didn’t need anyone else to be here. His teeth gritted and his eyes narrowed, no one would steal his only chance at possibly being forgiven by some spiritual force or his very soul. For so he long he lived since that day at Freddy Fazbear’s Diner that he could never forgive himself and every day onward it tore at him mentally. Even having to watch his brother die in his very home was something that only tore him apart even further as well as parents’ treatment towards him after. They dared not even look at him or speak to him for what he had done, no matter how many times he pleaded for their forgiveness. 

His fists balled in anger at Velma’s presence as well as the very sight of the gang who watched from the kitchen doorway. Quickly rising, he didn’t notice Freddy Fazbear leaning forward with its jaws parting and aiming for the man’s head. Even Velma didn’t notice it, the darkness blocking out the bear as well as the bunny and chick.

Freddy responded in the only way it had planned. It was a way it had planned long ago when Troy was murdered and figured out the inner workings of the mechanical bear. It would ultimately be the way he would harm Purple Guy should he ever get the chance. Troy would never harm anyone as well as Selene or Tabitha or even Andrew, but Purple Guy was their exception. After all, an eye for an eye or so his parents and books had taught him and the other children believed the same. Now granted, they were children and wouldn’t know how to dispose of a body afterwards, their minds (as much as they were shaken from this whole ordeal) still too innocent to process the notion of throwing a corpse in a dumpster truck or maiming it six ways to Sunday. Still though, it wouldn’t stop Freddy as the animatronic tightened its jaw around the man’s neck. Troy swore he could feel the man’s spine against the teeth and pressed down even harder, having waited so long (what he considered too long) to exact his revenge upon the man who killed him.

“Bro, what a-a-are youdoing?! I said I’m sorry!” The man sobbed out of terror and sorrow as his body writhed wildly like an ant in the sun beneath a magnifying glass.

Velma’s heart stopped as she watched the man squirm and wriggle, throwing his feet onto Freddy’s stomach, while his hands feverishly searched for a grip or something to steady himself to yank himself backward and out of the monstrous mouth. His hands firmly planted themselves on Freddy’s head, one blinding his right eye, the other grasping the jaw in an attempt to lower it and free his head.

“Freddy…stop..,” her voice was as dry as her mouth, fear plummeting her vocals into shock. She even found it shocking that she could speak at all, but even so her command fell on deaf ears. 

Her body froze and Shaggy’s instincts took over once more, like many times before, and quickly grabbed her, pulling her close to him where she buried her head into his chest, the sickening sound of metal grinding on bone and screaming rang out without end in her head. Shaggy’s light shakily focused on the scene before him, knowing he had to be there for Velma and from how it appeared there was no way of stopping Freddy Fazbear. Shaggy pressed his forehead into her hair, his eyes only watching her, knowing full well what would happen and how terror planted his feet to the ground. Velma would have wanted him to look at her anyway, to further stray his mind from unraveling as it had done the night before. Yet at times he couldn’t help but to look up and watch the scene through the mere gap of Velma’s hair and his own.

Fred on the other hand knew he had to do something or at least try. Bolting forward, he wrapped his arms around the writhing man and pulled hard, trying to free his head from the animatronic. This only seemed to make Freddy tighten his jaws on the victim’s neck. Daphne would have done something, she knew she would have, but she found that fear had rooted her to the spot. The only movement she felt she could produce was her jaw slowly dropping, her eyes never leaving the sight before her like a train crawling into a crash with another locomotive.

“Please! Bro, I-I-I said I’m sorry! I said I’m-“

**CRUNCH.**

If Daphne could scream, she would have. Then again, if anyone could have screamed they would have. All they could do was stare at the limp body as it hung from the jaws of Freddy Fazbear. Upon hearing the fatal sound, Velma quickly held Shaggy’s body even closer, knowing what his mind had endured the previous night. He had to keep a grip on reality and one by one, he watched as the animatronic’s eyes change from beady blood shaded dots into glowing orbs with ebony irises. Looking at each other, they didn’t seem to notice the horrified Mystery Inc before them. They only noticed themselves as they shared glances of knowing what had just happened.

“We did it!” Selene cried out, breaking the suddenly thick tension in the pizzeria.

“We killed Purple Guy!” Her voice was as victorious and glad as ever, possibly the happiest that the gang had ever heard her. The other animatronics cheered in unison, even as the blood still clung to Freddy Fazbear’s maws and the bear proceeded to grind the head with its teeth. Each crunching sound was far worse than the last, each sound ringing into Mystery Inc.’s minds and forever sealing itself as something they would never ever want to hear again for the rest of their living days.


	19. Much Needed Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead yet! Sorry about the wait and thank you for your patience - life and work tends to catch you up in things and I wanted to make sure I was heading the right way with this story, which, thankfully I am. Thanks for stopping by and enjoy! :D

Fred held the beheaded corpse of the man in his arms, too stunned to move. If his mind could break even further in that moment, it would have. It had been so hard to keep it together in this case and now this, this made his brain shatter. Fred was always the strong one, the one who had seen the most gruesome things in cases and dealt with it all with a smile on his face. He would never tell the gang how it built upon him after all these years because he had to remain strong and tough, just like a leader.

Granted, Velma had seen things that he would never dare imagine in her lab days. Yet sometimes the cases were just as grisly, if not worse. This however, was beyond anything Fred had dared ever dreamed. He dared not look down into the gaping, crimson hole where a head once rested. His pupils dare not peer into the mess of vocal chords, cut off like fraying wires and a torn end where vertebrae aligned. He could feel the rough edge of the spine leaning back into his sweater, but he reinforced himself with the notion of not looking down. He dare not look down, he didn’t want to see something that would completely break him and reduce him from leadership to weakness. Albeit the gang had seen him weak at times, but he never wanted them to see him like that. Fred had to be the one they followed or looked up to, even though Shaggy and Velma could lead a group with ease. The man had gone off on his own in between mysteries and often found himself in situations that caused his sleuthing skills to emerge. It was a miracle that nothing had happened or so Fred knew. Shaggy wouldn’t tell Fred of the time he was transformed into a werewolf and forced to race to win back his humanity. He didn’t want to worry him and knew how stressful the life of a leader could be. Besides, Fred had more important things to worry about like his future life with Daphne.

Shaggy held Velma even tighter to him to remind himself that this was reality and not a nightmare gone horribly awry. While the whole case was terribly horrific to begin with, this seemed to be the cherries on the cake. The icing was already laid thick with Selene’s cadaver and the other events of the nights. Although there was one night left to go, no one was sure if they could withstand it. It had been so harrowing that even their dog had to stay in the hotel room to ward off nightmares that swirled about in his head and to keep away from the pizzeria to prevent them from developing even further. Shaggy wished he could do the same and Velma probably wanted that too as she buried her head into Shaggy’s chest, drowning out the animatronics’ cheers in their belief that they had murdered Purple Guy.

Daphne dared not move the entire time, her widened eyes focusing on Fred who stood as still as a stone. His eyes looked straight at the animatronics as they high fived each other and danced about in what they believed to be their victory. His mind was a washing machine, fraying from sanity while remembering the old rumors that existed before this case even started. Of how the animatronics would come alive at night and devour people like night guards and sometimes children, of how they would ooze blood and reek of corpses, of how their servos was overridden by the nightly urge to feed, and perhaps, just now, their serves were dominated by that mere notion as well as the need to end the life of the man that had killed them. It was an eye for an eye and it would make sense, but the remnants of the man that sagged in Fred’s arms was not their intended and Fred’s throat ran dry with every chomp that Freddy Fazbear took. Yet he knew he had to be strong. He always had to be strong. He was Fred Jones of Coolsville, USA and he was always the leader and always had to be the one to be strong. It was always like this since day one and it would be this way until his grave. But now, he wondered if he could even be strong as he felt some things unplug in his head, wires breaking from their hard drive and falling, fraying, spitting electricity and whatever sanity was left, trying to reattach themselves before it was too late.

The sound of metal on bones raked down his spine and expelled tension within the gang. No one was certain of what to do or what to say and as Daphne swallowed the bile building in her throat, her eyes never leaving Fred. She couldn’t even fathom what was roaming through his mind, but she knew it couldn’t be good. Yet she couldn’t even bring herself to move or properly think or speak, too frightened and stunned from the scene before her. Leaning on the balls of her feet, she tried to call to him as loud as she could across the dining hall.

“F-Fred?” Her voice was too soft spoken, the fear strangled her.

“Fred!” Velma called out, muffled against Shaggy’s night guard uniform. She knew someone had to snap some sense into him, whether it be Daphne or Shaggy or even-

“PURPLE!!!!” Troy shrieked as his eyes fell upon Daphne and the animatronics suddenly stopped cheering. Their eyes immediately stared at Daphne, clad in her iconic purple dress, seeing through the rest of the gang. They didn’t even notice Fred standing before them with a decapitated corpse or the blood seeping into his sweater, causing him to bare an expression of blank shock.

“TroywekilledPurple-“ Tabitha started, now seeing the purple dress in the darkness. She knew that couldn’t be Purple Guy, they had just killed him and-Freddy leaped off the stage, striking the dinner area with a loud thud and silencing Tabitha or anyone else who attempted to reason with the spirit inside. The miniature rumbles reeled Fred’s sanity back from the brink briefly, his eyes still widened and his head now slowly turning to meet the glare of the angered bear.

Freddy’s pupils were locked on Daphne whose knees shivered, but found she couldn’t run. Heels seemingly rooted themselves into the ground as her fingers trembled in tune with her knees. If Fred could read Troy’s emotions he would sense anger for his murder ever occurring, for his father not letting do what he so desired, for Purple Guy now supposedly dead on the floor in front of Fred. He watched as Freddy snarled, raking Daphne’s spine with shivers and spat out the head as it messily landed just behind Velma’s heels. Shaggy dared not look down and Velma knew that sound and bit back a scream, gripping to the night guard uniform. Shaggy quickly moved her away, pulling her closer to Daphne in case they needed to defend her.

Freddy charged through the hall and with every resounding thud of his feet, Fred slowly came to. His pupils gradually grew to normal size, his mouth no longer slacked open but bore a grimace – the scent of death washing upward from his arms and punching him in the face. It was a smell he had picked up on in the past with their mysteries and while he should have grown used to it by now, it was something that still stirred his soul like a fresh cup of coffee. His nostrils flared at the cadaverous cologne, of recently spilled blood, and he knew that stench would cling to him and possibly never wash out of his favorite ivory sweater.

The rumbles continued throughout the dining hall and swallowing hard, Fred quickly looked over his shoulder. The sight of Daphne Blake shivering in terror while a gore stained bear possessed by the spirit of an angered child ran towards her was enough to make his blood run cold. Yet it was also enough to make his heart beat fast. His brow furrowed and gave way to his game face. A scowl of resentment towards Purple Guy, this case, and everything that came with it exposed his gritted teeth. Immediately leaving the corpse on the floor, Fred ran. Fred ran as though he had forgotten how to run and was only just remembering. He knew how fast the animatronics moved and while he was no mechanical being himself, he knew he would have to pick up the pace. His sanity still reeled at the situation before him and the notion of how he held a decapitated corpse and how he would need therapy to forget it ever occurred. His eyes focused on Daphne and how Shaggy and Velma inched their way over to her, acting as a shield for her. He knew it wouldn’t be enough; their strength could only withstand so much of Freddy Fazbear’s. Knees to chest, knees to chest, he ran in tune with his heart, pounding with every passing moment as he neared Freddy and Daphne.

**“PURPLE!!! DO YOU RECOGNIZE ME?!”**

It roared again. Daphne was too scared to move, let alone breathe. She could feel the world falling away from her and she wondered when she would collapse, a brief escape from this nightmare. She knew she had to be brave, but sometimes she couldn’t bring herself to be as strong as Fred. She adored him for his courageous nature, wishing she had his strength and while he taught her self-defense to aid in situations where things looked fierce, he knew she couldn’t handle the animatronic. Daphne had her moments of bravery, but they had seemingly dwindled over the years. Yet, somehow, Fred made her regain whatever courage she could muster. She would be brave now, yes, but the notion of a bloodied bear with a screaming child’s spirit charging at her was something she couldn’t stand up against.

**“DELILAH, DO YOU RECOGNIZE ME?!?!”**

It screamed again and Daphne swore she felt the room slow around her, of Freddy getting closer and closer. She couldn’t stop it. With blood still evident on its teeth, the animatronic bear bolted toward Daphne. Daphne felt something rising from her stomach with every step the bear took, she could feel it pounding in her chest, pounding in her throat, pounding in her stomach, and going down until she could no longer hear it pounding. Even words escaped her as well as her role of who she had to play and why. That gore stench worked its way into her nostrils and she felt her stomach drop to the floor in pure terror and disgust.

For the majority of this trip, Daphne had remained quiet. Perhaps it was the fear that caused her to be this way. It seemed like a logical answer and well, who could blame her? The murders behind Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and the mere scent the animatronics dispersed were enough to send anyone to an insane asylum. While she miraculously hadn’t lost touch of her sanity, she tried to be as strong and logical as possible for Fred. Yet, like an old cliff, she could feel herself crumbling. She didn’t want to say anything before, but now here she was, on the verge of mentally collapsing and possibly physically fainting. She knew what this case involved and while she should have expected it from when Velma initially mentioned it, she didn’t expect it to be this gruesome. Albeit, Daphne did have her input regarding issues and clues revolving around the case, but she was more silent than anything. Her lips were stitched with fear and her body was bound in terror and only Fred could provide her with comfort.

Fred was in for the home stretch, running as fast as he could. Freddy was so close, he wondered if Daphne was biting back bile and with this mere thought, he lunged forward. Tossing his arms around Daphne, he pulled her to him, pressing her head into his chest. Her arms were lifeless as though she had just been drained by a vampire. She leaned forward into his embrace and he stroked her hair, his fingers through her strands shocking some sense back into her. Slowly raising her arms, she held Fred tightly to her, fingers gripping the back of his shirt. Blood smeared on her purple dress, but at this point, she didn’t care. The dark cologne of death was far more potent now, but despite that, she couldn’t bring herself to break form Fred. Instead, she buried her head into his chest and clamped her eyes shut as the animatronic’s charge still thrummed in her head.

Turning his head, Fred locked eyes with the spirit and the animatronic. Knowing that it sparked fear into Daphne’s heart and how it spread throughout her, Fred was far from content. He knew it wasn’t Troy’s fault, but he could only imagine how terrified Daphne was. He stared at him as though he were a disapproving parent, knowing how young Troy was and how his father would probably give him this look. Troy instantly slowed his charge, eyes meeting with Fred’s and looking down at the purple dressed woman. From what Troy could see she was barely moving, other than her hands shaking at Fred’s back. He couldn’t hear her breathe or even speak and he wondered why she was so scared of him. Didn’t Delilah want to see him again? Wouldn’t she be happy to see him, especially after the events that happened here?

Troy’s spirit stirred with apprehension as he reeled on his heel. Freddy’s eyes locked with Fred’s and for a moment, Troy swore he was alive again and his father was staring at him. Glaring at him in disappointment in knowing that Troy had done something he did not like; like sneaking fast food into the home or eating it on the go. He knew his father was a health nut and cooked possibly the best food, if not pastries, in town. Yet he didn’t know how to let that pride diminish or understand that sometimes, people could be a little bad to their health by means of pizzeria pizza and overloaded french fries. It was just a matter of indulgence and self control.

“P-purple? Delilah?” The spirits had never heard Troy sound so defeated before and watched as the animatronic’s shoulders sag. He was never like this before, but knew his feeling all too well. Of attempting to communicate with those adored on the other side, the living side – the side he wanted to be on.

“Delilah,” Troy choked out the affectionate nickname for her as though the spirit were sobbing. Blood rimmed the animatronic’s eyes – the only way the boy knew how to cry in his form as Freddy Fazbear. “W-why won’t you look at me?”

Daphne’s eyes widened, her fingers twitched at Fred’s fabric. The question echoed throughout the room and Daphne knew she had to be like the others and swallow any fear that writhed inside. Her face slowly lifted from his crimson stained chest, her skin slightly speckled with some blood. Her forehead briefly rested at Fred’s chest and his eyes watched her with all the concern stirring within his frame. He was always the brave one, he should have spoken for her, and now, now she had to speak. To portray a woman she had only met for one day and quietly analyzed her personality, to become someone she barely knew all in hopes of freeing the soul of a boy who frightened her with his mechanical coffin. It was mind shaking and Fred wasn’t sure how much Daphne could take, but he would support her.

“Troy,” Daphne spoke weakly, swallowing the fear and possible bile in the back of her throat. “Troy, sweetie, I’m sorry. You…you caught me off guard.”

If Troy had face, it would bear a grin as wide as the Thames River. But he didn’t have a face. No, no, his face, like the others was torn up by beams and wires and smashed down into the mere anatomy of Freddy Fazbear. It was mangled beyond all repair and tangled in every single screw and coil that rested within that machine. Daphne knew this, Fred knew this, everyone knew this; they didn’t have to imagine what Troy really looked like beneath the mask because they had seen what they could of Tabitha and smelled their rotting body cologne. Daphne cringed at the imagery in her head and bit back even more bile so that it hit the top of her stomach with a rather rough internal punch.

“Delilah! It’s okay, Delilah!” He couldn’t stop saying ‘Delilah’; it was as though he were a baby learning his first word. The spirits glanced at each other through their bleeding suits and if they could, they would smile at Troy’s vanquished anger and sorrow. Albeit, they could rejoice in that “Delilah” was finally speaking to him and was brave enough to do so, but this wasn’t a moment for hollering and jumping about. Even so, Troy’s voice rang with such cheer and clarity that he wanted more than to hug her as he did in real life before the murder. But no, he needed further atonement, yet what more he could need to be released he did not know.

Gradually lifting her head, Daphne’s eyes locked with Fred’s and his orbs widened at the blood stains on her skin. Upon meeting with his eyes, Daphne’s hand gently broke from his shirt and slowly wiped the crimson away, not wanting to see any more of the animatronic who had just decapitated a grieving man. Yet she knew she had to look at Freddy and speak to Troy in order for this case to be resolved. Sighing to herself, Fred felt his heart stop at just how pale his beloved Daphne was. He knew she was scared to the bone and yet, he respected her for being brave in knowing what she had to do despite her composure. Slowly nodding to Fred, he felt her pry her fingers from his back as he released her, his hands hovering above her shoulders in case she needed support.

“Troy….Troy…,” Daphne started, recollecting herself. “What happened, sweetie?”

“I was dancing with my friends and I-I saw something in the backstage area.”

“What was it?” Daphne implored gently, Velma looking away from Shaggy’s uniform and watching the conversation unravel between the two.

“It was a golden suit….a…bear or rabbit…I can’t remember.”

‘A rabbit?’ Velma thought to herself, her eyes focusing on Bonnie before returning to the blood stained bear. As far as Velma and anyone else knew, Bonnie was the only rabbit on premises. 

“It said…it wanted to show me Freddy’s Clubhouse…a new section of this place. He told me to come alone. Nothing would happen.”

“Where was this clubhouse?” Daphne interjected as the cogs in Fred’s mind began to turn.

“Backstage.”

Fred’s mind raced toward one singular goal. It was a goal he should have pursued from the start, if not when he first entered the backstage area. He should have explored that area further. He knew he had seen something in there before, but it was dark, too dark for him to fully make out what it was. Perhaps it was the entrance to this “Clubhouse” and Fred knew he had to somehow get inside. But then, he wondered, who else that had worked here seen the entrance or even knew about the “Clubhouse”? Or was it something Carl forced everyone to keep quiet about or perhaps it was too dark, too faded for them to see?

Velma’s thoughts transformed into thousands of questions, her brain reeling to discover an answer. She couldn’t make much of anything when she was backstage other than the watchful animatronic heads, tools, a fire extinguisher, and the exoskeleton. Other than that, she couldn’t’ see much. She now wished she peered into the darkness as she had done before, because she remembered Fred seeing something, but being unable to further explore it.

“So then what happened?” Daphne’s question caused Velma and Fred to further attentively listen.

“I…I followed him in and….the room was…it wasn’t a clubhouse…” Troy stopped, regaining his composure as blood poured from every visible orifice Freddy’s frame had to offer. A low sigh escaped from the voicebox as the spirit recalled everything it didn’t want to, but it had to make Delilah understand the gravity of the situation. 

“It…smelled of blood…and it was all..over the walls….I…couldn’t get out. I tried to get out. But it got me before I could get out, it…it pulled me in and…something went through my…my head but…that’s all I remember…”

Most likely, he was stabbed through the head or so Velma believed. A gunshot would have been too loud and furthermore, busy or not, someone would have heard it. The pizzeria had to have been busy that night for no one to notice an animatronic leading a child Backstage and perhaps Troy’s father looked away for one moment, distracted by a waiter or something, only to return with his son nowhere in sight. 

“Delilah,” Troy started, his voice trying to be strong, even as it faltered with fear. “Why didn’t you…see me?”

“I was distracted by our waiter,” Daphne quickly retorted, attempting to drown out the sudden guilt rising in her stomach for reasons she could not explain or understand. She felt as though she somehow caused the disappearance and demise of Troy. She knew she wasn’t Delilah and that there was no one to blame, even though Delilah and Troy’s father probably blamed themselves unmercifully for this event ever occurring. 

“Ask him to show us this ‘Clubhouse’,” Fred quickly whispered into Daphne’s ear who automatically complied, only to be met with widened animatronic eyes and a soft moan of terror from the voicebox.

“I-I can’t, I can’t go back there, I can’t go back in that room!” Troy spoke once more, his voice filled with terror. “I can’t remember…I don’t want to remember….please.” 

Daphne knew that pleading tone, having heard it before in their mysteries. She knew, just like everyone else knew, not to pressure the victim into doing things they didn’t want to or not regardless if it would aid them in their case. Fred would have to go back there and document everything by means of pictures and recordings so Velma could further investigate the location. The location seemingly tied in with the golden suit and maybe it also pertained to Purple Guy. Velma knew she would also have to research Purple Guy even more deeply than what she had before. She couldn’t accept the fact that there were no reports or documentations on him, who he was, and why he did the things he did. She had to step up her game if not for her knowledge, then for the children and this case. She had to thoroughly investigate Purple Guy and now she wondered if Carl had a file of previous employees. She would have to check the office if not somehow manage to hack the system to get what she needed. From what she recalled from the animatronics, no one seemed to have a crystal clear image of Purple Guy. Yet it couldn’t hurt to double check.

“Does anyone remember what Purple Guy looked like?”

Silence fell upon the room as the animatronics tried to think for a moment only to be met with hanging heads. The animatronics looked at each other solemnly, shaking their heads. This served as Velma’s answer, her face bearing no disappointment but rather a kind smile of reassurance. She knew they could only remember so much and that their brains probably blotted out the traumatic parts of their endeavor. To remember those moments would be painful, despite the pain they already faced of being trapped within the animatronic bodies.

“Hewasinthat…gold…suit.” Tabitha sheepishly chirped up and Shaggy nodded, shooting a comforting smile at her to reassure her that everything would be all right. If she could smile she would reciprocate the same gesture.

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII re-remember…..s-something…bout….hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim.” Andrew spoke up from the shadows as Velma’s heart skipped a beat with curiosity, wondering what the soul in the fox suit had to say.


	20. Getting to a Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you miss me? Seriously I mean it's been months (unintentionally mind you) since I've updated this. Sorry to keep you waiting - life, cons, cosplays, and work tend to take their toll. Anyway, let's continue shall we? Thanks for your patience and thank you for reading :D

All eyes focused on Andrew’s soul residing within the rusty red fox, taking a deep breath the animatronic stood as still as a stone. The soul’s memory began to jog in an attempt to recall everything he had the night of the murder. The gang knew it would be a traumatic experience for him to remember as they watched Foxy’s head hang briefly, memories rushing to the front of the soul’s mind. Blood gathered in the corner of the animatronic’s eyes as Andrew controlled the arm quickly and shakily to remove the crimson tears. He had to be brave for this as he had been brave many times before. After a few moments, he slowly rolled the fox head upward and he stared into the shadows behind the gang. Andrew attempted to avert his eyes from the decapitated, partly chewed head. He had already seen enough dark and terrible things – he didn’t need to see something like that and he knew it. Andrew didn’t meet anyone’s gaze nor did he wish to, the suffocation and tension filling the room and choking his spirit.

“Talllllllllll….ssstrong,” his voicebox croaked out, he rammed his fist to his chest again and the sound stopped.

“Dark eyeeeeeessssssssssssss,” Velma was now mentally jotting these notes down as quickly as she could. Any detail to decipher Purple Guy was essential. From the corner of Fred’s eye, he tried to determine the features of the previously beheaded man who attempted to atone for his past to Freddy. Velma had been as close as possible to the stranger and saw that he did not bear dark eyes – they were a different shade that turned dark in anger when she neared him. 

“Butt…chinnnnnnnnnn,” the other animatronics giggled at the word ‘butt’. They were still children regardless of their current state and they would laugh at anything inappropriate, given their age. Velma smiled, happy to see that at least the children retained some sort of humanity and humor in their tragic afterlives. 

In her mind she began to piece together the Purple Guy features. ‘Butt chin’, she believed, would be a dimpled chin given the miniature line in the middle would resemble a crack. She giggled at the notion – it wasn’t her type of humor, but sometimes it got a laugh out of her. Based on this, she imagined Purple Guy with a firm jawline like that of a superhero. There were people with cleft chins and thin frames, but sometimes they had muscle on them usually around the neck to support the head. Andrew had said Purple Guy was strong, so he would have had to have some muscle on him. 

“How old would you say he was, Andrew?” Fred questioned as Velma drew the picture in her mind. Andrew made Foxy’s head roll in contemplation, the neck joints creaking like door hinges.

“Ummmmmmmm,” Andrew made the Foxy animatronic’s hand ram its chest once more to recover the voice box. Even so, the child was uncertain of the man’s age. He wasn’t necessarily older, but he wasn’t necessarily younger. He was in the middle – a balancing act of aging and life. 

“Did he look like my age?” Fred asked.

“Ummmmmmm-“

“Howoldareyou?” Tabitha asked, her voicebox speeding her words.

“28.”

“That’s old.” Selene responded, causing the dining hall to be filled with the laughter of the deceased children. Now while this would have normally come off as creepy or uninviting, the gang believed it to be good that these souls could still laugh over something. It was a lighthearted moment that this endless endeavor needed; a break from the doom and gloom, a minute of respite from the gore and sorrow. Even the gang found themselves laughing some, trying to shake off the dread of the situation at hand or quell it at least.

A twenty eight year old with a “butt” dimple chin, strength (possibly a big build for said power) and dark eyes; the concepts swirled in Velma’s head. She had an idea, but in turn it spawned off into several other ideas containing the same information of Purple Guy’s appearance. She had settled them down to a few, but she would need validation. 

“Shaggy and I are going to the office. I’m going to try and see if I can find any employee with this description.”

“Great idea, Velma!” Fred boasted and Velma smiled softly. “While you do that, Daphne and I will talk to the kids and try to explore the backstage area more.”

The way back to the office was met with feet clicking on the tile, Velma’s brain juggling ideas about Purple Guy, and Shaggy wondering how Scooby was holding up alone in the hotel room. He knew the dog needed a night away from all this madness which was affecting him terribly. The dog knew how to help himself to the mini fridge and room service (which none of them cared about that particular finance) and Shaggy wished he was there in that room comforting his friend as opposed to being on the case. Yet he knew he couldn’t leave Velma here, knowing that there were other terrors that haunted this place.

None of the animatronics would harm them anymore. The children’s souls recognized those they had left in life and were reassured that they meant no harm. Rather, they were here to help and the souls believed in turn, they would be freed very soon and would be more than willing to help. 

Shaggy was relieved. Perhaps the more they assisted them and vice versa, the quicker this case would be solved and the sooner he could go on that date with Velma. Looking over at her he noticed she was talking to herself, something she had always done in cases. Sometimes the others would contribute, but most of them allowed her to speak, knowing full well she was the brains of the group. The more she spoke, the more she jotted down (mentally and physically). 

Shaggy always loved the way Velma formed her thoughts. Of how she spoke to herself and how her brain worked – it was something he had picked up on after all these years. He knew how fast her brain was, forming ideas as fast as he could knock out a feast. It was incredible and he swore sometimes her DNA had been fused with the speed of a computer to produce factual knowledge and possible theories. Even if he didn’t understand some things, he remembered how she would quickly educate him. Atoms and particles, how devices worked, she was more than happy to inform him. From her demonstrations her passion for knowledge burst like a thousand fireworks – her eyes lit up and even her smile and overall exterior seemed brighter. Shaggy loved the way she beamed with her knowledge and he knew that he only had a mere taste of it on this case; he couldn’t wait to see the resolution of it all. 

When they reached the office, he was already pulling out the files for her. A computer would have been easier, but Carl seemed to like things the incredibly old fashioned way. Screens showed the monitors’ lines of vision and were possibly the only technology within the vicinity next to their phones. Velma threw her jacket onto the floor and sat on it, the files towering around her like a paper craft fortress. She spoke to herself, while giving a nod to Shaggy as a mere ‘thank you’ for providing her with information she needed. He knew not to disturb her or interrupt her thoughts unless she spoke.

As for himself, he started to rummage through the old videotapes of monitoring recordings. Perhaps Purple Guy, let alone some semblance of him was on one of the tapes. Shaggy wasn’t sure how far back the tapes went, but he knew he had to help in some way. He didn’t have to worry about the animatronics being ruthless anymore, knowing that everyone had befriended each other. Shaggy could recline in knowing Velma was safe – for now anyway. Who knew if Purple Guy still lived? Or if Golden Freddy would strike? Those ideas crackled some of his positivity and made his stomach slouch into the curve of his spine.

The files seemed never ending, each one piling frustration on top of Velma’s brain as she ardently searched for a man matching Andrew’s description. Shaggy hadn’t said a word regarding the video footage, unable to find anything thus far. A scowl had drawn itself on her face as she wiped her forehead, feeling transparent sweat cling to her pores. She knew this search would last her through the night, but by no means did it bother her none. 

All the videos seemed the same, but at least they made the time fly. While keeping an eye out for Purple Guy, Shaggy also noted that the murders weren’t caught on camera. That Purple Guy – he knew how to be sly and hide his deeds. It sickened him greatly as he sipped some soda from a Fazbear cup. 

Shaggy was just about to wonder why the red phone hadn’t provided him a message as it normally did when the device rang. Somehow, the ringing seemed more distressed than usual, causing Velma to look up from her work. Shaggy had whipped out his phone with the record function ready for what Phone Guy had to say.

“Hello?”

“Who are you?” Velma called over as loud as she could.

“Hello, hello?”

“Who are you?!” Velma shouted, her curiosity unsatisfied and the irritation cultivating in her head.

“Velms, it’s pre-recorded.” Shaggy answered sadly and Velma sighed. Were Phone Guy actually on the other line, it would give them an advantage.

“Hey, wow, day four. I knew you could do it. Uh….hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow.” Shaggy’s eyes widened as the tension grew thick and Velma hurriedly abandoned her work to listen to the conversation even better.

Shaggy knew that the Phone Guy messages were pre-recorded. He knew talking into the phone or trying to make conversation with Phone Guy would be pointless. So why he kept asking ‘what’s wrong’ over and over into the phone was something he couldn’t understand. He was met with emptiness only to be quelled with abrupt banging from within the receiver. Velma and Shaggy jumped at the unexpected sound and quickly reached for each others’ hands, seeking some support. 

“Its-its been a bad night here for me. Um, I-I’m kinda glad I recorded my messages for you-” Clearing his throat, the sound seemed minimal compared to the banging which seemed to increase with every sentence Phone Guy finished. “Uh, when I did.”

They were both on pins and needles with Velma quietly questioning the banging and who was making it and why. Was it Purple Guy attempting to attack Phone Guy she would understand, but then, she really had to wonder one thing: where WAS Phone Guy’s corpse? All the animatronics were stuffed with the children (save for Foxy whose slender frame would have exposed the cadaver), but, come to think of it, they had never seen Phone Guy’s soul or body. Perhaps he was a found victim and had a proper funeral – Velma liked to think that. It was a more positive way for Phone Guy, but then she wondered, how long ago were these recordings made, and did Carl know about them? She could feel her mind racing once more as Shaggy seemed to tighten his grip around her fing-

“Uh, hey, do me a favor.” Phone Guy spoke once more, the air growing dense as Shaggy swallowed hard.

“Y-yeah?” Shaggy shakily responded, knowing there would be no use in communicating with a pre-recorded message.

“Maybe, sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room?” The knocking seemed to overpower Phone Guy’s words as though he were giving away something rather fatally informative.

“I’m-I’m gonna hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Velma swore the banging was happening just outside of the Office. Yet the doors weren’t lowered and the animatronics were with Fred and Daphne or just roaming about. Their servos weren’t corrupted; they couldn’t be corrupted now, not when the souls powered them, and took control. The souls knew better, the children knew that Mystery Inc. was nothing to be scared of. There was no need for them to act up or lose control unless someone tampered with their systems. No one was here though, other than them and none of them knew how to mess with their systems.

“Uh, I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there.”

“Like s-s-sure, we can l-like do that.”

The heads. Why didn’t Velma think of that? Something had to be in them. She had to warn Fred, but would the workers have known by now that something was possibly hidden in them? Something rotten and foul or something that would help them. When she had went back there with Fred and Daphne she swore the eyes moved. She believed that to be some internal servos acting up or merely a figment of her imagination and fright. Perhaps there was more to that, perhaps there was-

A lonely chime broke through the banging. It was soft, like something one would play in a child’s room before bedtime or for mere leisure. The banging seemed to provide the back beat to the chime forcing the melody to grow louder. Somehow Shaggy found the tune more unsettling than the banging and his spine squirmed and shivered beneath his skin as he sat back into the chair to calm it. Velma bit her lower lip, eyes focusing on the phone in Shaggy’s hand. The chime was disturbing, but she would hold her ground when her dearest could not.

“L-l-like that’s the Toreador March!“ Shaggy declared and Velma briefly smiled at his attention to classical music. Truth is, he had known that jingle because a burger place had based it on that piece. 

“You know-“ a distraught moan cut off Phone Guy and echoed through the phone, eliminating Velma’s sudden smile. It seemed to increase that haunting little chime and Velma’s heart dropped into her thighs and slithered down to her heels. Shaggy swore his heart and stomach performed the same actions as he trembled and Velma held his hand even tighter. 

“Oh no…” what followed was another sound that Velma and Shaggy never wanted to hear. They had heard the crunching of metal on bone that night and still their souls stirred from that godawful sound. Their eardrums were still sensitive from that noise and how they could still hear it in their head and how it made their bodies quake for every time they heard it. However this sound, this sound was possibly even more disturbing because they were uncertain as to what happened. With the decapitation they knew what had arose and what the outcome was. But this sound, this sound left everything out in the open with the strong possibility that something or someone could still be alive and crafting this noise. It even made Velma hope that Phone Guy was still alive, but that hope was trampled on by the harsh honesty of reality.

A shriek of static followed by mechanical screeching pierced their ears and it caught them so off guard that Shaggy dropped the phone, the noise still ringing from the receiver. The banging and chime came to a sudden halt at this ungodly mechanical roar as it penetrated through the receiver, even as it lied on the ground. Velma hunched over, her one hand grasping her ear, the other still clinging to Shaggy’s fingers. Shaggy clamped his eyes shut and grit his teeth in pain from that very sound as it seemed to never end and it filled the room like water. It pounded in their ears and it cemented itself in their brains so that every time they would even look at an animatronic they would hear nothing but this relentless, unyielding scream.

Velma’s fingers fumbled, knowing Shaggy was too scared to even retrieve the phone until she looked and noticed how he quickly grabbed it and threw it onto the base. His fingers shook as though the phone was a venomous snake and he was just bitten, but at least the sound was gone. It still rang in their heads, but it started to diminish deep into the temporal lobes and the memory functions where it would remain until their death beds, and they hoped that that would not be the last thing they would ever hear in life. Velma leaned forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder, her mind violated by that intolerable, insufferable noise.

“What,” she murmured. “What was that?” She asked herself more so than she did Shaggy whose shaky hand reached for her and gently stroked her hair.

“I-I don’t know, Velms, but like whatever it was, it was creepy.” 

“I’ll say.” Looking up, Velma felt her eyes drawn to a part of the West Hall that she hadn’t taken notice of before. In the corner was a poster, a poster she didn’t recall seeing before and that ungodly noise returned again in her mind of static and screaming. Staring at the poster, she didn’t understand the effects of this mere piece and yet she couldn’t bring herself to look away. A golden bear with hollow eyes and an empty mouth peered out from the poster stabbing Velma’s soul and making it squirm. This case had caused her to see some terrible things, but this poster was something far different that she couldn’t explain. The bear looked exactly like Freddy Fazbear, but Golden; why had she never seen that animatronic before?

“S-Shaggy,” Velma’s voice rattled, the secluded poster of Golden Freddy in the corner of the hallway seemingly glaring at her with its soulless smile and stare. “When- was that poster always there?”

“Like what poster, Velms?” Looking over, he felt his spine stiffen having never seen the poster before and if he had, he was too terrified to remember. He went to reach for Velma’s hand and grasped it tightly, her fingers locking with his in reassurance that everything would be okay. The walls seemed to shrink on them as Velma stood her ground the best she could while ‘IT’S ME’ scrawled itself on every surface with transparent hands. With her shoulder pressed to Shaggy’s, the two watched as the Office seemed to contort in size. Posters in the hallway and children’s drawings of the animatronics appeared to shift into empty sockets and reddened maws. Their jaws parted wider and wider until Velma swore they took up the whole poster and bled onto the walls. 

Velma swore her spine could shimmy outward from her skin with how it shook. Biting her lower lip, she tried to keep her grasp on reality, but she found it slipping with every moment. She always knew how to keep her cool and stick to logic, but here in this place of murder and mystery, she felt like Alice in a dark Wonderland. Velma cursed herself quietly; she had to be the strong one. Shaggy had nearly lost his sanity and probably sat on the brink of losing it and she couldn’t bear for it to happen to him. She had seen worse than this, she believed she would be fine and glaring at the posters she felt her beloved’s grip slip on her. 

She couldn’t tell how Shaggy’s sanity may have struggled to stay or how their mouths revealed to him a darkness so black that he couldn’t escape from or how ‘IT’S ME’ took up every inch of the wall. She knew he had had it the worse and maybe this illusion, this trick crafted by some culprit or ghost was the cause behind all of this. A test of their sanity, a trial to hold herself in a moment that wasn’t scary (or so she believed), a challenge to refrain from snapping.

“Shaggy?!” Her voice seemed distant in his mind as locked eyes with the posters. These empty maws couldn’t be real, right? It just had to be the lighting of the pizzeria – how shadow and light played with the eyes and the mind, especially at night. Night was a mischievous time where anything could happen, especially in haunted places like Freddie Fazbear’s Pizzeria. 

“Shaggy?!” She called once more and received silence and the absolute expression of horror that plastered itself on his face. It was as though his face had been molded into silly putty and stretched so that his jaw hung slack open and his eyes were full as the moon. Velma had seen this reaction before, but now it seemed more distorted than ever and she did her best not to release his grip. 

“It-it’s here again.”

“Shaggy? Shaggy, what do you see?” Velma’s eyes darted about the room, only to follow Shaggy’s stare. Whatever it was, it was playing with his sanity, tricking his mind into believing the impossible, the improbable, the spectral, that had to be it, there was no other answer. Yet she wondered what it was, what she hadn’t seen, what she needed to see. Her mind raced for answers and solutions to help her look into that vacant spot in front of the desk and see what Shaggy was seeing. She followed his line of vision only to come across something that made her just as unsettled as Phone Guy’s last message.

Slumped over like a fresh kill against his desk was that golden bear with empty eyes. Shaggy dared not stray his gaze from the bear and he swallowed. Peering into its mouth bore all the darkness that Shaggy had ever been afraid of when he was a little boy trying to sleep at night. He never liked the dark, but in due time he managed to outgrow and overcome that fear. Now staring into the eyes of this dead looking bear was enough to make that terror return once more in shivers down his spine and widened eyes. His fingers shook wildly and Velma did not hesitate to hold them tightly with her own hands to try and snap him out of whatever trance had possessed his frame. He didn’t stir nor notice her action, let alone the welling fear in her eyes. 

This was a new one. This one had never appeared to her before and she wondered if she called Fred and Daphne if they would see it too.

“FRED! DAPHNE!” Velma tried calling out to them, desperate to free Shaggy from his trance. She was trying not to look at it; it was a monstrous train wreck that never seemed to end. The very stench from this golden bear reminded of her of when they started this case. It wouldn’t be that bad or so she believed and she tried to rid herself of the guilt that was forming in that her lover may be losing his sanity. She wished she had never said anything about this place, but it was too late for regret. Now it was time to focus on solving the case and getting everyone out of here as soon as possible. Her own fright slowly dissolving, but lingering like this bear.

“Shaggy! I-it’s not real!” Velma doubted herself while trying to comfort him. She looked over her shoulder to glance at it while blocking Shaggy’s view. So far all of the animatronics were real in that they assaulted and conversed with Mystery Inc.

“Like how can you say that Velms? It’s looking right at us. Golden….yellow bear…” His voice slowed, filled with terror at the possible notion that it could come to life and lunge for him in search of solace or snack. 

“Yellow bear-“ Golden Freddy. Wait, didn’t the guy back there say something about-“’It’s brown now,’” Velma repeated the words to herself. “’It’s brown now, the one that bit you, it was golden before-‘ no…it’s…it’s two different bears.”

The cogs in her head turned wildly as though they were steam powered and she was some steampunk contraption. The golden bear had supposedly bitten down on a victim’s head – could that have been the Bite of 87? That bear who accidentally murdered that little boy had to probably be put out of commission and never used again. The bear wouldn’t have faded that easily from golden to brown – it would have needed more time. From how it appeared, it was still rusting but before that faded golden shade. Velma heard of the Bite of 87 and recalled reading about it when researching this mystery. Come to think of it, why hadn’t this bear said anything? Wait – her eyes widened. If the bear had bitten down on the victim’s head it would have come in contact with the Broca’s lobe, the function that enables speech and words and distressing cries for help. The body was probably hospitalized – the man back there had mentioned the doctors trying to work as hard as they could on the victim, that little boy. But then, what of that little boy’s soul? Had it not passed on or did it not know how? 

In place of her fright rose sympathy, for the little boy in the golden bear suit. The wheels in her head came to a grinding halt as Velma stared at the bear and felt her heart pang like a child banging on a drum. Every strike was another stab of sympathy that ricocheted throughout her body. 

How long had that little boy been inside? How long had he been trying to reach out? To say something, to wonder where he or his family was? Even in life he couldn’t speak and his death, his very soul could not utter a word. It was all due to a circumstance that could have easily been avoided had his brother known the inner workings of the suit and yet, how could he? He didn’t know there were no locks to stop the jaws from biting, he didn’t understand how those springs tensed and released, he didn’t think through to the tragic consequences. The boy was all alone and that made Velma’s heart shatter indefinitely and bring a tear to her eye. She quietly questioned now if the other animatronics saw him, saw the golden bear, and possibly tried to reach out to him. She felt her hand grip her unexposed chest, as though trying to restrain her heart from bursting in sorrow. 

All the other children were murdered within the recent year. The Bite of 87 happened a while ago and in knowing this, she now believed the boy had possessed this golden bear animatronic. Clearly it wasn’t in any of the other animatronics or the heads Backstage. The little boy was here - unaged, watching the passage of time, hiding all this time, yet she wondered then, why he had never appeared before. Or rather, how did he come to fruition? Neither she nor Shaggy saw him enter the room and now she realized that the bear had appeared by looking at the poster. For a moment she swore she felt like she was in a video game, where one thing triggered another, and yet, haunted houses and murders had the same action/reaction sequence as did everything else in life. Some objects were known to drawn forth ghosts which was entirely reasonable.

Looking over at the golden bear, Velma knew she had to say something. Shaggy was too terrified and the only person that could have communicated with the spirit was the decapitated boy whose corpse unleashed smells to match the bear’s. She could still smell it from the office and shrugging off the ungainly cologne, she went to walk toward the bear. Shaggy’s hand tightened on hers.

“Don’t go.” He whispered. Velma knew she had to go and yet she understood his meaning. 

“Shaggy-“

“Like if Chica nearly hit you last time when you approached her, like what will this bear do?”

Shaggy did have a point. Velma didn’t know what this bear would do and she didn’t want to risk being eaten. If this were a spirit though, could a ghost consume something living? The only way it could do that would be possession. Yet Velma believed that this suit was already possessed by that little boy and knew that she would be safe from such a thing occurring. Still, Velma swallowed hard in anxiety and she nodded, taking heed of his advice. From where she stood, Velma locked eyes with the bear and tried to think of what she could possibly say.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Freddy’s Clubhouse,” Fred murmured to himself. “It sounds like some fanclub for Nightmare on Elm St.”

“It would probably be less creepy too.” Daphne stated as they stared into backstage. Having been in here before she didn’t like it, but she knew she had no choice. She swore the animatronics’ eyes watched them as they entered the room and followed their every move. 

The exoskeleton still sat on the table and Daphne swallowed, knowing that it supported children’s bodies as well as the animatronics just beyond this room. Its eyes watched them too and while she seemed to slow her pace frightful of these eyes, Fred pressed onward.

In his mind he was kicking and cursing himself. He knew he had seen something in this lonesome corner before and while it was vague and barely visible, he knew it existed. Maybe if it he had cracked it open before, this case would have been solved and no one would have had to subject themselves to Fazbear’s. Perhaps, even then the souls would have been freed. 

“Daphne, could you help me look for a crowbar?”

“A crowbar? Why?”

“There’s something in here that might help us.”

“There is?” Daphne’s voice simmered with suspicion. “Fred, why didn’t you tell us?“

“Bonnie chased us out.” Fred’s matter of factly tone sent a pang of annoyance through Daphne’s mind.

“We could have easily returned.” 

“I wanted to be there for the gang in case the rest of the animatronics acted up. Daphne, you don’t know what could have happened. Foxy tore into me, Chica assaulted Velma, and if I hadn’t been there for you when Freddy attacked, I don’t know what would have happened.”

By no means could he allow his strength (mentally and physically) to alter during this case despite it doing so already. He had to be the leader and bear everything including strength. He was the backbone, the ultimate support of the group. Fred couldn’t allow this to be changed, not in a case like this.

Despite her flaring anger, she knew he was right. Fred was the strongest of the group. Shaggy could throw a punch or two, but he was skinny and only had so much strength within him. Fred wouldn’t be able to forgive himself should something happen to Daphne or the gang and the orange haired woman knew this all too well. As she began her search for a crowbar, Fred raised his phone, his fingers feeling along the wall. 

The phone only provided him with so much light as he squinted for what he saw before. Thin lines. Thin lines in the wall, not from wear and tear, but from an unused door. Something sealed up rather well from what he originally saw through the shadows of backstage. At times his fingers fumbled over the wall, holes from possible termites or age. Even some of the paint was falling from the walls, leaving behind wooden specks of what lied beneath. How long ago did this place open Fred had forgotten, the facts about Freddy Fazbear’s opening and revenue disappearing beneath the horrifying stories of the children.

Leaning forward into the wall to examine some details, he winced. The injury Foxy had given him a few nights ago still ached every now and then. He quietly hoped it wasn’t infected given how rusty Foxy’s hook was and how deep the cut was. He had treated the wound once he returned to the hotel room and only this morning when he awoke, he noticed it was starting to scar. He was lucky it didn’t penetrate him any deeper and he was glad his thick sweater protected him in that regard.

Daphne used her phone to search for a crowbar. She knew one would have to be in here to pry apart the sections of the animatronic suits. As her hands felt through the shadows, she began to wonder if the workers had known about the animatronics. Clearly they would have to open the mechanical wonders up in case something went wrong with them. Stray bones could have easily caused wires to come apart, globs of rotting skin could have clogged some cogs. Or were they sworn not to say anything, she questioned and shivered at the thought. She had never really understood the layers of the animatronics. Yes, there was the exoskeleton, but there was more than that. There were wires from the suit itself wrapping around the figure and housing it inside its bulky frame – just as it did the children. Perhaps the children’s bodies were so deeply embedded that they were distant from the main repairs and functions. Maybe time had eroded those corpses so well that the workers didn’t even know what they were feeling other than wire and cog and beam. Swallowing bile slowly building in the back of her throat, she continued to search for a crowbar.

Fred’s fingers caught on something. A narrow, thin piece in the wall. Fred shined his light over the dip and exposed those thin lines once more and followed them as they created the shape of a doorway. Fred’s eyes widened. Before him stood a sealed, hidden room which could contain all the knowledge of the missing, murdered children’s killer. He smirked to himself, if Velma were here she would call it ‘a chamber of secrets’. Now to get it open…

“Fred, I found a crowbar.”

Perfect. He would have smiled, but dread consumed him. What exactly was lying behind this door that had to be sealed up? Come to think of it, why would the workers seal it up? Fred had dealt with monsters and ghouls in the past with Mystery Inc. Some of which were bound to books and rooms and halls, haunting items and locations for their own reasons. He shined the light on the door, searching for any symbols or writing only to find none. Had the workers actually known about this hidden secret of Fazbear’s? Fred bit his lower lip, his heart telling him to run, but his brain enforcing him to follow through. He always listened to his head over his heart and looking over at Daphne he watched those leery animatronic eyes observe her as she brought the crowbar to him.

“Great job!” He spoke reassuringly with a quick kiss to her lips. Now if only he could assure himself that he would be all right, then things would have been better if not much different. Fred felt the secret doorway for a weak spot to plunge the tool into. Daphne took to the other side of the doorway, her slender fingers feeling for the same weakness.

The slab of wood over this secret chamber didn’t seem that old. Granted, it could have been placed over the room when the pizzeria was opened or when the children were murdered. They were killed in June of the same years so that would have been approximately five months ago. Wood couldn’t have aged so easily within that time and now Fred wondered who had put the wood on this chamber and if anyone had really noticed or feigned ignorance. A large piece of wood like this would have had to been caught on camera, there was no way someone could have easily smuggled it in. Yet it was very possible that this wood could have been backstage the entire time for some original, unknown purpose.

“Aha! Found it!” Fred exclaimed, his fingers feeling the wood dip in a bit and give way beneath his mild pressure. He swore that search took longer than it should have as he dug the crowbar into the section and swallowed the dread building in his throat.


	21. Just Within Reach

“I know you can’t speak, given where you were bitten-“Velma started off slowly, uncertain of what to say. It harshly screamed in response, that ungodly shriek making her cringe, but she couldn’t turn away now.

“But Purple Guy didn’t murder you-“ It screeched even louder, causing Velma’s brow to furrow and her heart to thrum with fear. She didn’t hear of anyone being in the suits in ’87 because they were still powered by the same servos or so she believed. Perhaps more research would need to be conducted, if there was time. 

“Velma, look!” Shaggy cried out and on the screen, the scene flickered through black and white film from the VHS. White dots emerged in the golden bear’s empty sockets as though it was watching the footage. A group of boys in masks akin to those iconic animatronics were shoving a crying boy into the golden, singing bear and a figure, in the distance was leaning against a giant door. Quickly pausing the screen, Shaggy leaned forward to obtain any detail on a recorded man who wasn’t with the boys.

“Check the other cameras’ footage, maybe that’s Purple-“ The golden bear screeched loudly, interrupting Velma’s request. Her eyes flickered to the screaming bear, baffled by the notion forming in her brain. Hesitation grabbed her throat, the words climbing upward as they worked in time with her mind. It seemed like a stretch, yet, why else would the bear be shrieking at the screen? He wanted them to see this man which only allowed her belief to evolve into asking:

“….is that Purple Guy?”

He wore dark clothes and a badge that captured the spotlight from the stage. The light gave way to what appeared to be a smile as twisted as a pretzel, but his eyes stayed hidden within the shadows. The shadows outlined his well built frame and a firm jaw, from what Velma could tell – he was so distant from the camera that she could only decipher so much about him. The badge confirmed his status as a Fazbear employee and Velma now recalled how she had never seen someone bearing this man’s description before in all the times she had been to this pizzeria. Perhaps he was fired, left the establishment, or was even laid off long before Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria reopened. 

Shaggy played a few more minutes of the tape to see if the film would capture anything else about the possible Purple Guy. As the seconds unraveled, the video showed that he did nothing more than stare. Stare at the scared little boy who writhed wildly in the mouth of the golden bear. Watching as the jaws crunched into the child’s head and even watching the boys who put him in there to begin with slack their jaws in horror at the realization at what they had inadvertently done. He did not move, but only smile until a scream from off camera washed it away. The man slipped into the passage that the giant door had guarded. It was at then Shaggy stopped the footage again and Velma could feel nothing but emptiness throughout her body as though someone had sucked her soul.

“He watched the bite of 87…?” Velma’s voice caught in her throat, struggling to believe the words spilling from her lips.

The golden bear shrieked, agreeing with her. Why this man did nothing, Velma wondered and that smile alarmed her as though he were a serial killer enjoying his murder. Perhaps, he was the mechanic or technician to these animatronics and given the knowledge he owned, he could practically do anything. While there was that lingering possibility, Velma mentally backtracked, the Bite of 87 was an accident though.

“Your brother put you in there,” Velma teared up as she spoke those words and the bear fell silent. She tried to figure out to say, let alone what to think. Why would anyone watch a child die especially knowing that they could have prevented the situation? Swallowing her tears, she abandoned emotion for logic, her brain spinning faster than a CD.

Caught in his staring contest with the golden bear once more, Shaggy didn’t take note of what Velma was saying. He couldn’t tear away from it, he couldn’t even imagine what would happen if he did. Yet he swore he felt the room grow a little too quiet for his taste as he watched the bear slowly nod, as though acknowledging Velma’s statement.

“Purple Guy,” she tried to keep the confidence in her tone, despite feeling it falter. Purple Guy was the one behind the recent murders, but for this, he had been an accessory to the unintentional murder by allowing it to happen. “He just watched, but he could have helped-“

“Like, he should have helped.” Shaggy whispered with fright and the golden bear’s head slowly nodded, groans of anguish spilling from its mouth. 

“Little man, is that you?” The VHS tape was seemingly spat out of the television as a new image came to light on the screen. A floating head – no, not just any floating head. The floating head of the brother Troy had just decapitated appeared and Shaggy dove for cover behind the seat. The screen shook and crackled with black and white as though it were from long ago while a dark backdrop gave the head more attention.

“Little man-“ The voice rattled Shaggy and Velma, having not expected to hear or see this young man again given his fate.

The golden bear roared, ivory dots glaring at the screen. Shaggy swore the scream was louder than ever and he could understand why. The head turned as best as it could to the golden bear.

“Little man-“ He was cut off by another shrill shriek.

“Please-“ The ungodly roar resounded throughout the office.

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME!” The bear was quiet once more as though registering those words. Its beady eyes watched tears stream down the bodiless presence’s cheeks. The bear growled lowly in anger at everything that had happened between him and his brother at Fazbear’s. Yet seeing his sibling cry softened the growl some as the bear leaned in, the glare still unforgiving.

“I’m-I’m so sorry, w-we…we had no idea it’d-“ the golden bear cut him off, another roar filled with pain as Shaggy grabbed Velma and pulled her from the scene. Understanding, she followed his lead. It was the spirits’ moments now, not theirs. 

“Ple-please listen to me.” The bear snarled, the ghost in the machine not wanting to listen, but at the same time wanting to hear his brother’s voice. Could he talk he would ask him a myriad of questions about his death, why he did it, why didn’t he stop it, where were his parents, and what he had caused for them. 

The room succumbed to silence and if Shaggy listened close enough he could hear the raspy breathing of the soul within the bear. If he closed his eyes he could imagine the full body of the brother’s head and if he dared to inhale a deep breath, he could smell what that little boy’s body smelled like. These were the things he didn’t want to do and instead he held Velma to his frame. Velma’s eyes dared not leave either spirit, her pupils darting back and forth like a game of Pong. It was only now she noticed that the neck was trimmed in what appeared to be bite marks – no doubt the work of Troy when he attacked the sibling. Velma winced in the recent memory of that occurrence. It was only when the disembodied head sniffled and sighed that the bear seemingly sneered at it.

“We…we had no idea it’d do that. We-w-we thought it had..an anti l-lock or somethin. I-it was..t-t-the sight of….b-bro…it-it’s somethin that haunts m-m-me now and I’m dead!”

The headless sibling sobbed and sniffed. Clamping his eyes shut, he hated to be seen crying, but for this he had no choice. He had cried his eyes out earlier, but now his cries seemed more powerful given that now his brother’s soul rested before him in the very bear that killed him. 

“Purp-purple Guy,” the bear shrieked terribly, causing the head to cringe. “H-h-he worked there,” Velma’s eyes widened. “H-he worked with-with the suits, r-r-remember?”

The bear groaned in response not wanting to recall Purple Guy, but the memories were thrust upon the spirit like a wave to the shore. The video footage and his brother’s recollection caused him to remember that man. That terrible, terrible man who had a hand in all of this. Purple Guy was always helping people into the suits, but not the ones onstage. Those were solely animatronics. 

“HE FUCKING KNEW! MAYBE H-HE COULD H-HAVE DONE SOMETHIN!” The head wailed wildly, his skin darkening from the tears he spilled and the warmth from them that filled his skull. “MAYBE HE COULDA-COULDA…..saved…y-you….he-he h-had to know…something. No…n-no, he knew. He h-h-had to!” The brother’s spirit wearily spoke, his head feeling as heavy as the world despite it being nothing more than his spirit. The soul in the golden bear quietly moaned with sorrow, agreeing with his brother.

“L-l-little man,” the older brother spoke up after a moment of silence. “I-I’m not leavin’ til-til you’re free. T-t-then we…we can g-g-go together. Knowin’ Pur-Purple Guy’s dead. G-g-got it?”

The bear sharply raised his head, leaning it forward towards the tv. Gazing at the screen, the soul inside stared at the screen. Watching his brother sob and snivel, the soul was neither happy nor sad. Rather, it was filled with anger and a stray sense of hope that maybe he would finally be free from his early fate. He wasn’t sure how much he could forgive his brother for what he had unintentionally done, despite his brother stressing that he didn’t know. 

He had only seen his brother cry when a girl had cheated on him. That was….Lord, the little boy’s soul couldn’t remember to save his spirit, but he recalled that day. It was a pretty girl, Jessie her name was, and she was dating his brother for a while. She wore her brunette hair in a messy bun and from how it appeared, she loved his brother dearly. When his older sibling found out she had been cheating on him with his best friend, he tore up the posters in his room his best friend gave him, the pictures they had together of holding hands and silly smiles, and smashed everything she had even given him, even her lucky charm. After that, he collapsed in a fit of descending madness and proceeded to cry long into the night. The younger brother remembered hugging him that night and how his older brother allowed him to do so, even crying on his shoulder at one point.

To see that emotion driven brother again, even in the afterlife, meant everything to the child’s soul. He watched as his sibling’s head tried to shake the tears from his cheeks on the screen. It was a funny image at first, but incredibly heart aching in the sense of this was the only person he had left. He wasn’t sure where his parents were or if they were even alive. It was only his brother who somehow and for some reason sought him out which made him now wonder if his parents were dead.

For the first time in this form, the little boy cried. No, no, he didn’t just wail. No. This time, rivulets of crimson teared from where his eye sockets would be. The mere weight of his afterlife existence trapped in some limbo of a mechanical suit, not knowing if his parents were alive, his brother’s ethereal presence, being unable to reach the other children because he was so weak and if he could move, he could only transport himself to the office or the poster, stripped of any interaction other than the night guard – everything in his mind was reeling as fast as an out of control clock and it all began to crumble on his little spirit shoulders. 

The head rolled to his brother and if it could and if he still had hands he would pull his brother (or even that ghostly suit) into his arms as best as he could. He would apologize thoroughly as he had mistakenly done so to the brown Freddy Fazbear only moments before. He would weep on his shoulder and his little brother, his little man would cry into his chest just like so many years ago, and maybe, maybe everything would be all right. For now, he was glad not to have a heart because he swore he would feel it breaking at the sight of this suit seemingly crying. 

“L-l-little man,” the brother spoke trying to quell or calm the situation at hand. “It-it’ll all be over soon, okay?”

The bear’s white dots for eyes never left the screen, not even as the suit nodded and the brother forced a miniature smile. His brother would be okay or so he hoped. He wasn’t sure how long he had been in that suit or how much more he could withstand. He knew that the end was in sight or so he made himself believe, not wanting to accept the reality that he would possibly be trapped here. Swallowing what he could of his tears and sadness, he locked eyes with his brother. Hope and sorrow culminated together in his tired looking eyes. 

“S-see you on-on the other side?” The older brother asked only to be met with a weak roar from the golden bear as it slowly vanished from his view and returned to the poster from whence it came. It lingered there, watching the television screen and what would unravel within the office next.

The head rolled its gaze to Shaggy and Velma and then the pile of folders. The head tried to examine everything while bearing a scowl in regard to its state. Sniffling to eliminate the rest of his tears and snot, his glare turned to Shaggy and Velma. Shaggy slightly retreated, uncertain as to what would occur next. His body hid Velma who poked her head out from his side, warily watching the noggin. 

“Are-,” he shook his skull, regaining his composure to the best of his ability. “Are you workers here?”

“L-l-like,” Shaggy spoke, voice trembling with awe and fright. “I am.”

“Y’know who Purple Guy is?” The brother snarled, believing they were allies of the villain.

“No,” Velma responded sharply. “But we’re trying to figure out who he is. He obviously allowed the bite of ‘87 to happen and then there were the missing children.”

“Missing children?”

“Yes. This year five children vanished – all of them claim it was by his handiwork.”

“Are….are they here?”

“Yes. They’re in the suits.”

The head fell silent, unsure of how to respond. His widened eyes exposed his brain trying to piece her words together and the imagery that followed. Children in the suits? That was recent? He had only just gotten out of therapy. He hadn’t been keeping up with the pizzeria, wanting to forget as much as he could. Yet, rumors tend to slip from ear to ear and he swore this was a rumor. However, his therapist had said it would be easier for him to come to terms with this place. 

The mere mental pictures of children’s bodies in those suits boggled his brain. If he could vomit, he would have done so and for once in his life he was glad to not have a stomach.

“I…,” the head started, dumbfounded. “I only thought they were stories meant to keep kids away. Ghost stories, nothing else, but,” his eyes bent like his eyebrows, rage unfurling for the perpetrator behind the Bite of ’87 and now these children. “That fuck!”

“What do you know about Purple Guy?” Velma hastily inquired, not wanting to lose a lead.

“I don’t know much bout him,” the head started, anger still vibrating in his voice. “I don’t even know his real name. P.G. was on his tag-“

“Like clearly it can’t stand for ‘Purple Guy’.”

“No, those were probably initials for his name.”

“He-I turned around after my bro stopped moving. He was watching, still grinning that fuck, he went back where the suits were. He could have helped, why the fuck didn’t he help?!”

“How long was he at Fazbear’s?” Velma pressed on.

“Since it opened in ’80. After that bite though- I don’t fucking know.” The head growled in irritation. “I stopped goin after that. I don’t know what happened to my friends – we all just fell out of touch after. I wound up help trying to take care of the little man, but-“ if the head had a fist he would ram it straight into the wall out of pure rage. “It’s my fault! It’s my fucking fault! I know it is! I was finally coming to terms with everything and now this shit!”

The head stopped speaking, drained from everything this night had brought on. His downcast eyes exposed his sorrow and anger. They were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was parted breathing pointless air. His stare locked with Velma and she could see all the wheels in his head slowly spinning to the situation at hand. She could only imagine how wildly they whirled before, but now this spirit wanted nothing more than for everything to come to an end at Fazbear’s. 

“I suppose I deserve it though.” The head solemnly stated.

“Like don’t say that man, you didn’t-“

“No. No I didn’t know,” he swallowed. “But I shoulda had some common sense, y’know?”

The room immediately drew into quietness again. They could have agreed with him, but they already knew the bleak situation at hand. They also believed that he could have thought better back then, but he had appeared to learn from his lesson. So much so he went to therapy for it and that day still probably scarred his mind. The ghost head’s sigh filled the office with some semblance of sound before bowing his head, not wanting to look at the only people who could possibly help him and his brother. Shame still clung to him, despite having accepted what he had brought on.

“I’ll uh, be here, if you need me.” The spirit spoke once more, his voice nothing more than a downtrodden whisper.

“No, wait!” Velma called to him, but he was gone in the blink of an eye. The tower of files fell with a loud thud, causing Velma to swiftly turn around to the sound. Shaggy jumped as Velma groaned in irritation and quietly cursed. She had them all organized too and she was halfway through them. Her hands reached out to grab one of the fallen portfolios before noticing the last file. It was old and she swore it smelled of mold and stale pizza. Coffee stains splattered the front, but what caught her eye was the writing on the tab. Smiling, Velma understood. Picking up the file, she muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to the spirit before delving in.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fred groaned in frustration as the wood moaned in protest beneath his strength. Daphne flashed her light over the area, knowing that her power was nothing in comparison to Fred’s. Peering over her shoulder, she noticed the animatronics had gathered at the entrance and she jumped a bit in shock, not expecting them to be there. 

“Is-is heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-“

“He’s trying to get Freddy’s Clubhouse opened!?” Troy horribly yelled from the dining hall.

“He thinks there might be something back to help you.” Daphne spoke as gently as she could to the other animatronics, her heart rate doing its best to slow to a regular pace. Troy would not step foot near backstage, even now his frame quivered as he inched himself as far away as possible from that section.

“Thereis?!” Tabitha piped up in hope, anxiousness trimming her voice.

“There could be!” Fred called over.

“Let’s help him then.” Selene’s voice called over, striding into the backstage area as Daphne stepped aside to give the golden bird some room. Tabitha followed after despite her shaking animatronic purple rabbit frame, fright had consumed her, but to be free she would have to be strong as Selene had told her before. Even Foxy cautiously entered the room, Andrew’s soul operating the eye so it looked around for any danger only to be met with the glaring animatronic heads on the wall.

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII,” Andrew whacked his chest to stop the glitch voice box. “I’ve never beeeeeeeeeen back here.”

“Whyaretheystaring?”

“It’s just your imagination.” Or so Daphne would have liked to believe as she spoke and locked eyes with a few of the heads. She swore with every stare, the eyes turned into malicious glares. She couldn’t let the fear get to her now, not even as it was building in her throat.

Foxy stood beside Fred as Bonnie and Chica went to the other side of the doorway, their fingers barely fitting beneath the small gap Fred had already created. If Selene still had her throat, she would have swallowed. The soul trembled and she quickly righted her avian frame, needing to be strong for Tabitha. From the corner of her eye, she watched the purple rabbit quiver in terror. Selene couldn’t be scared or hesitant now, not when someone as young and influential as Tabitha was leaning on her for support. 

“On the count of three we all pull okay?” Fred broke through the air and Bonnie’s body seemed to slow its quaking. The animatronics nodded in eager understanding, their freedom was so close at hand.

“1,2,-“

“Like, wait!” Shaggy sprinted in with Velma in tow. The animatronics whipped their heads in the pair’s direction, their eyes wide with curiosity and confusion. 

“Wait? Why?” Fred asked Shaggy, who tried to catch his breath. Stopping his pulling, the animatronics paused with him while waiting on edge for a response. Bonnie had stopped shaking, staring intently at Shaggy and wondering why he would stop her from being free. Had they not seen the animatronics’ suffering and insides? Why would-

“Like tomorrow’s the last day for this place being open. Don’t you think they’ll like find it weird if that wood’s off whatever it is?”

How would they explain a slab of wood being pried off its wall to Carl? Did he even care at this point? Yet still it would draw some suspicion and the man hated the fact that people were coming around here trying to solve the mystery of these children. Why he would hate it though was something that baffled all of them and maybe he was the perpetrator behind this. Maybe he was Purple Guy. While that was an entertaining thought (and oh how they entertained it when the mystery began) it was incredibly unlikely. Purple Guy resembled a more chiseled, strong figure as to where Carl appeared to be Danny Devito’s brother. Plastic surgery couldn’t mend that. 

If Carl or an employee took note of a strange wooden board lifted from the wall then he would possibly restrict Shaggy’s access. He would possibly fire Shaggy early and take away the keys. He would have cops come to guard the premises at night. He would change the alarms so Shaggy wouldn’t know the code and they would get caught and the children would never be freed. They couldn’t run that risk. For them to blow it would be costly not only to them, but the children as well. Furthermore, if the police had restrained trespassers from entering the Fazbear premises at night, then what would they do to Mystery Inc. had they told them their story and everything they found? Yet the police seemed to have gotten nowhere in this amount of time. It was something that baffled the gang to the core, but where they supposedly failed, they gained so much more.

“He does have a point.” Fred touched upon Shaggy’s comment and the animatroncis’ eyes locked onto Fred’s frame.

“Buuuuuuuuuuuuut we’re s-so close!”

“Pleasefreeus!” Tabitha pleaded as Selene wrapped a wing around her shoulder the best she could, glaring at Fred. To have something so precious as freedom snatched away in a second was sickening and she growled darkly in protest.

“We will, but like-“ 

“We have something that may help.” Velma interjected, her heart thumping at the object in her hand.  
“What’s that?” Daphne asked cautiously, her eyes following Velma’s hand as she lifted an employment folder. Arching her brow, she allowed her light to shine on the photograph clinging to the folder. 

It appeared to have seen better days with crinkled folds and paper bug chewed edges. A large cold stain blended in with the man’s fair skin as he bore a “butt” chin with a rather firm jaw line. Dark eyes pierced Daphne’s through the picture and she felt herself retreating from such a direct, firm stare. Velma took note of his broad shoulders and believed the girth to seep into his arms, providing much needed strength to lift things like corpses and animatronic parts. Daphne reeled on her heel at the picture.

“Is that-“

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat is i-it?” Andrew inquired as he turned around, his animatronic eyes catching the photograph. Velma bit her lip, her hands too slow to withdraw the picture from his gaze.

If Andrew were still human he would squirm his way through the gang and run as far as he could. He would sprint through the doors and race home to his parents, crying and screaming all the way. The backstage door was so close at hand and yet he knew if he reached it, where would he run to? There was no escape. Purple Guy had given him this fate and only the gang could hopefully alter it. Yet the very visage of his murderer was enough to make him want to sprint down the street. Pools of blood welled in his animatronic eyes that glowed like candlelight and if his heart was still pounding, he would feel it sink into his toes. Instead he felt the world around him vanish so that he only focused on the picture. He didn’t notice the fox suit he was trapped in shake like a leaf, nor did he hear Tabitha, Selene, or even Fred calling out to him. All he heard were the sounds of his skin being stabbed and his limbs being sliced and his heart quickening then stopping, stopping one last time and he swore he saw the picture contort so that Purple Guy smiled eerily and-

Andrew let out a shriek that was by far the most heartbreaking sound they heard on this venture. The combination of mangled animatronic voicebox merged with a boy who had lost everything and was now confronting the cause, albeit by photograph. It was an unmerciful sound that tore through the surrounding area, causing even Tabitha and Selene to cringe within their metal coffins. If they listened close enough, they would hear Troy whimpering at the scream, knowing the very cause behind it.

“PUUUUUUURPLE PURPLEGUY!?”

“Andrew, it’s a picture-,” Fred gently reaffirmed and Velma shot him a glare. Even pictures of murderers could revive a damaged psyche especially if it was the victim’s. Fred retreated against a wall as the fox shrieked in horror.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HEEEEEEEEEE-“

“HEWASGONEWHYISHEBACK!?”

“Tabitha! Like he’s not alive-“ Shaggy called out to her, never leaving Velma’s side.

“How do you know that?!” Selene barked, ramming her wing into a wall, stepping forward and bearing her rounded teeth at Shaggy.

“Selene, please,” Velma chided and cooed, approaching Selene. “We’ll find him dead or alive and free you!”

The room was bathed in tension, Shaggy’s frightened eyes meeting the glowing orbs of Chica, Velma’s glare now falling upon Fred and hiding the portfolio behind her back. Daphne was caught between Fred and Foxy, white knuckles gripping her chest trying to push her heart back inside as it beat loudly with terror. Fred was reaching for Daphne and Foxy to comfort both if not either one, breaking from his position against the wall. He should have realized Andrew would have been scared and he bit his lip to get a grip on reality and to bite back a furious question of why didn’t Velma take the profile away sooner. Maybe then Andrew wouldn’t have screamed and this wouldn’t have unfurled, but he supposed the tension was bound to unravel sooner or later. 

It seemed the whole establishment seemed to draw to a still. Silence even fell upon Troy who stopped whimpering. It was as though everyone had turned into a statue, frozen for days to come, eyes never leaving each other, wondering what move the other would make. Not even a breath was taken, in fear it would cause something to fall. 

However, the smallest of sniffles was made by one little rabbit and the tension quickly shattered.

From this snivel, that rotted corpse cologne tumbled forth and filled the room causing everyone to start breathing normally. It was a scent they didn’t want to breathe in, but they had to get something in their lungs. There were a few coughs which only caused a wail to grow from the purple rabbit whose eye sockets were filled with garnet, the stench of blood now culminating with the cologne. Her mouth was parted, giving way to a brief glimpse of what she was and who she was and Shaggy turned white.

He had imagined what she looked like – dreamed what she looked like since the night that Velma had checked out Selene. It was a face he never wanted to see in real life and yet here it was. It was mangled and rotten and he swore he saw small beams penetrate cheek bones and run through where the nose would be. There were no eyes (probably long eaten by now), there were a few teeth, there were what appeared to be yellowed bones wrapped in coils, and by God did he want to run more than he had ever wanted to in his lifetime. But he couldn’t run. He had to look down (staring would be rude), but he couldn’t bring his neck to look down, look down damnit! His body was paralyzed with fear as it had been throughout the venture and it turned his stomach into cartwheels tumbling throughout his skeleton. He could his heart stop, knowing terror had a strangle hold on it and he couldn’t break the grip, he couldn’t get out, he needed to -

“Ijust…Ijustwantogetout.” Tabitha sobbed, her tiny voice breaking the remaining thickness in the air. Her jaws came to a close again, hiding her true self. She had spoken not only what was on her mind, but Shaggy’s mind as well and his heart burst back into action struggling out of the grip. Thank God there was only one more night to go.

Selene slowly withdrew her offensive stance from Shaggy and turned to see the purple rabbit whose crimson tears streaked her cheeks. She had to admit she had taken on a rather protective yet sisterly relationship with Tabitha in their time together. She wasn’t open to others, but there was something in knowing that a child (much younger than herself) was trapped inside a mechanical casket that made her heart soften. Was it pity? She didn’t know. Sympathy most likely and it spread throughout Selene like the flu. Besides, someone had to comfort her – death had to be scarier as a child than it was as a teenager. 

“Hey, it-“ Selene started, lowering the edge in her voice to a bare minimum and doing her best to construct a calm tone.

“Idon’twannasmellanymore!Iwannagetout!” Tabitha’s shoulders slumped and her head bowed as best as it could, causing blood to spill from the mouth and nostrils and drip onto the floor.

“After this, we won’t stink.” Selene spoke. “We’ll be what we used to be.”

“Wewon’tbealive,Selene!”

“I know. But we’ll be out of these suits and away from here. We can go wherever we want. It’ll be okay.”


	22. Getting Out of Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :D
> 
> We're getting closer to the end and boy, this is where it all comes down. Thanks for sticking with me this long and your patience. Life has been a wondrous blur of chaos and beauty. Plus, I needed to plan this right. Enjoy and thanks again for reading :D

“His name is Paul Giddeon, age 32. Technician.” Velma read off from his profile that the ghostly brother had revealed to her.

“Fired as of – this was only a few months after the murder!” Daphne noted and nodded at Velma.

“We have work to do, gang.” Fred spoke up as he gazed about the office, only imagining what knowledge would unfurl.

Long into the night the gang researched Purple Guy or “Paul Giddeon” as he was properly referred to. Shaggy and Fred watched old security tapes and recent ones to track down the man in question. What they witnessed they had made note of and were not surprised to find that his murders had taken place off screen where the camera could not detect him. Daphne and Velma examined his file and researched everything they could about the original Fredbear’s Family Diner.

There were only two animatronics in the diner – a golden bear called Fredbear and a mustard shaded rabbit called Spring Bonnie (which the Internet commonly referred to as ‘Springtrap’). One of the video tapes gave way to Paul Giddeon helping an employee into a suit, causing Velma to research the suits of Fredbear’s Diner. Only Spring Bonnie and Fredbear could easily be entered through assistance and delicateness so that the wearer should not activate the springs, causing imminent death. Bonnie, Chica, Foxy, and Freddy were not spring traps. They were walking, talking animatronics and served as a modernized update to the old spring traps and for good reason. They welcomed guests during the opening of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

The use of spring trap suits came to an end when someone had died within the suit. It wasn’t the bite of 87 per say, but it was a situation wherein someone attempted to wear the suit. The person had died in the suit the past year. An old newspaper clung to the back of the file cabinet drawer, telling of how a worker died at Fazbear’s trying on the springtrap suit. The springs might have been rusted or water may have splashed upon them, but either way, something triggered them to completely crush the person inside. The person was entirely mangled within the suit to abstract any DNA from, but along with the story a warning was issued to all Fazbear employees. It was a bold, direct paragraph as to how employees were to evade the springtrap suit and that should any be found that they were to notify Carl so he could properly take care of them.

Velma couldn’t believe this. If they stopped wearing the spring trap suits when the animatronic suits were introduced, then why would a springtrap suit be worn again? Or even somewhere on property?

The animatronics would peek in every so often and ask them questions about Paul Giddeon and every so often, the bodiless brother would be summoned or appear on his own accord and tell them what he knew.

Though of course, the bodiless brother’s corpse still lied on the dining hall floor. Most of the night was devoted to the proper removal of the cadaver. It had to be respectful and as sanitary as possible without being caught on camera. Velma mopped up the blood and bleached the floor, causing Daphne to cringe at the smell, but it had to be done. Fred – the saner one of this venture – worked with Velma to secure the body and bound it tightly in table cloth that Shaggy could easily replace from the storage closet. Fred and Velma disappeared for a while, disposing of the corpse in a humane manner, leaving Daphne and Shaggy alone in the office together.

“I’m glad you and Velma are finally together.” Daphne started in her usual sincere tone. “We’ve been waiting forever to-“

“We?” Shaggy inquired, turning away from his work for a minute.

“Yeah, me , Fred, Scooby, and Velma. She’s had a crush on you for years.”

Shaggy’s eyes widened as he mentally kicked himself for not noticing before, but he was glad that now they were together. Albeit, he had loved Crystal and some other girl….Sookie, Schookie, Googie, years ago, but that was before how he felt now. Now he felt as though the love bug had bitten him full force as opposed to the passing years when he would look at Velma with admiration filled eyes. Sometimes, he now recalled, how he would secretly smile when she would announce some grand deduction regarding their mysteries. He knew back then he wasn’t ready, but now, now he was more than ever ready to embrace that wondrous feeling titled ‘love’.

“She never told you.” Daphne snapped his thoughts. “I think it was because you were always with someone or she didn’t want to ruin your friendship with her.”

“Like she’d never ruin it or what I want with her.” Shaggy spoke in that dream swept tone and Daphne smiled.

“What do you want with her?” Daphne asked curiously with a coy smirk, causing Shaggy to almost sink into his chair out of happiness. He basked in this moment as a reprieve from the murder and mystery as he imagined a future with Velma Dinkley. 

“I want someone to like…snuggle with while watching movies and I just want to like listen to her and every single thing she says and be there for everything she does. Like I want to be by her side.”

Before Daphne could unleash that little ‘awwww’ resting behind her lips, Tabitha had beaten her to it followed by a childish giggle. Daphne smiled and Shaggy laughed some to himself before returning to his work. 

By the time the information was gathered and the brother’s cadaver had properly been disposed of, morning was just starting to seep in. As the clock sounded six, the gang looked at each other in knowing that this day would bring about the final night at Freddy’s. Time seemed to have flown by with the meeting and conversing with the children’s souls trapped inside the suits, losing and regaining their sanity, learning about Fazbear’s (more than what the Internet could ever tell them), and trying to understand the mind of a sick madman.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s your last day, Norville.” Carl spat as he gazed at the empty hall. Shaggy stood beside him, gazing at the child less chairs and tables. “You were good for a security guard.”

That day was filled with restlessness, coffee, and research. Velma had gathered the final results of the children’s DNA samples to confirm their identities. Yet her mind was still baffled by the springtrap demise and Paul Giddeon’s status. Clearly, they could have been tied together, but why would Paul return and enter that suit? Was it a form of suicide? The final strand of sanity leaving his mind? She couldn’t decipher the motive to save her or perhaps, it was the lack of sleep getting to her. Exhaustion couldn’t get in her way now and even Fred had offered a few suggestions. What if those children’s families had somehow wronged him? Or if the kids themselves had done something to him? At some point she had fallen asleep as well as everyone else, but only she rose a few hours later to continue her search.

Shaggy stood (by some miracle) as he still mentally tried to piece together everything he had noted about the eatery before falling asleep. Despite his protests and wanting to stay awake and help, he was directed to bed. Even Scooby Doo sent him to bed, knowing how tired his master was. The security guard position was draining him of sleep and energy. Thankfully, this was the last night. Yet when he awoke only hours later, he demanded to know everything that had been discovered and Velma filled him in on the information. While he did listen to her, he couldn’t help but to dreamily stare at her as she explained what she found.

“Like th-“

“’specially when you were talking to those robots.” Carl interjected and the room grew thick with silent tension.

Shaggy froze. He swore he felt his heart stop and his throat run dry. Words eluded him and the only thing that came to his mind was that at any minute the police would burst through the front doors and take him away. The gang wouldn’t be able to get in or solve the mystery and the kids would be trapped here forever, crying blood for all eternity. The children would never forgive the gang and they would probably haunt them in their dreams, longing for freedom from their robotic caskets and filling their nostrils with that ghostly gore scent.

“W-w-what? Like I thought-“

“I didn’t care? I don’t.” Carl paused, glancing at the absolute dread on Shaggy’s face. “But it’s a job and I have to follow my duties as a manager. Part of my guidelines instructs that I watch the night guard’s security tapes. You know, to see if any funny business goes down that they don’t tell me ‘bout. This went into place after the murders.”

Funny business HAD gone down. Talking animatronics, robots that cried blood, children trapped in mechanics, friends of the employee in the facility when they weren’t supposed to be, the list went on. Shaggy forgot how to breathe as he dared not meet Carl’s eyes which closed and his lips gave way to a smirk.

“Y’know they never talked to Mike Schmidt.”

“Mike Schmidt?” Velma had mentioned his name before and probably went into detail regarding him, but he couldn’t remember. He only wanted an explanation from Carl as he tried to piece together an escape route should the cops appear or Carl tried to restrain him.

“Yeah, our old guard. I guess he didn’t look like anyone they knew before…,” Carl’s voice trailed off rather roughly. “They just kept scaring ‘im. He couldn’t take it and left, right before you guys came along.”

Looking over at Shaggy he saw that the slender man’s body was quivering some and he patted him heartily on the back.

“It’s your last night. I ain’t gonna report you to the police as much as I should, given all the things you’ve done. Yet you managed to talk to those kids and hey, if you can get them outta ‘ere, be my guest. This place is closing anyway. No one should be left behind.”

“Carl, like, do you know what happened?” Shaggy hesitantly asked his eyes following Carl’s as they seemingly drifted into the backstage area. The quiet air suffocated Carl as he took a breath to regain his memories and words. Shaggy felt slightly at ease knowing that Carl wouldn’t have him arrested and so the escape plan in his head fell away. Yet wherein his solace was to be found, more questions arose regarding Carl and the murders. 

“I always thought it was some damn punks pulling that shit. Bleeding animatronics, the smell. Thought it was stink bombs. I never thought there were kids in there til you started talking to them.”

“And like the parents?”

“I thought they were in on it. Everyone’s close in this town, even down to pulling pranks on each other. It’s something they do for fun, but this…I didn’t get it.” Carl sighed, kicking himself mentally for his stupidity. 

“Like what about Paul Giddeon?” 

“Eh, you found bout Paul huh? He was a great technician. He kept trying to bring back Springtrap from the ol’ diner, but it never came to. He’s been missing since the last murder.”

“Like where did he go?”

“We have no idea where he ran to. No one’s even reported him or talked bout seeing him. So we marked him as ‘fired’ and never filled the job.” Carl sighed. “They put a missin persons report on him but nada.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Shaggy knew how hard and terribly Carl was suffering from the guilt crashing down upon him. “I thought if I kept it going, keeping this place open, kicking the parents out, trying to get rid of hate and suspicion, that I could just ignore everything. That it could just be the way it used to be. I love seein those kids smile and laugh, I love this place – y’know the original Fazbear diner started here.”

“Yeah like me and my friends looked into it.”

“This place has always been a part of my life. It was so weird and amazing to see these robots gettin’ up and dance and sing and people ate it up. Heck, I was one of them!” Carl’s weak laugh was rough and bittersweet and it made Shaggy suddenly understand the manager more.

“But you can’t run from the music forever. I shoulda let them ask questions, do anything to try and get their kids back. Maybe…maybe it wouldn’t have had to come to this.”

“Like don’t you think Paul had something to do with the murders?”

“I-,” Carl fell silent, biting his lower lip hard to staunch the guilt raking his back. “I mean, I-“ words eluded him, knowing that someone had thought the same thing he did. “It’s possible. He had vanished after the murders. No one’s seen him. It’s somethin I always thought about, but we could never find him, and everythin was so damn clean on the suits and tools. Like he was a ghost touchin ‘em.” 

“Carl-“

“Look, I don’t know anythin else, I swear. Just get ‘em outta ‘ere, k?”

What Shaggy had wanted to say was that it wasn’t right for Carl to cower from reality. If he had anything to say, he should say it. Not cower or make for the door as he did now. He knew he wouldn’t get anymore answers from Carl as he watched the short man walk with a guilty boulder clinging to his back. His intentions seemed well, but, what good did they do in the end? He bit his tongue, knowing that reprimanding a man he would never see again would do nothing. Plus it appeared that Carl had learned his lesson. Giving him a solemn nod, Carl turned from the entrance and looked back with a sorrowful stare.

“Good luck, Norville.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once the gang had entered, they began their task of tearing down that door backstage. As they did so, Shaggy had told him of everything that had transpired between himself and Carl. Shaggy hadn’t informed Carl of anything that they had found, believing that the man had seen everything on camera. Come to think of it, Carl hadn’t mentioned removing that wood or eliminating the door. Perhaps Carl knew, Shaggy noticed his stare earlier when looking at this area. It was a stare full of worry and distress and maybe he knew something, but didn’t want to say it. There was really no reason for him not to say anything, especially since this was the last-

“Okay,” Fred broke Shaggy’s thoughts. “On the count of three we all pull, okay?”

The animatronics eagerly nodded as well as their human companions. Troy still whimpered and clung to the corner of the dining hall. Everyone let him be, knowing that it was possibly too rough for him to handle. Even Foxy trembled in fright and Selene dared not move, not wanting to quake and terribly influence Tabitha.

“One.”

Daphne flashed her light over the wood sealed door. Her fingers trembled as she stared at the slab. She always hated jump scares and she wouldn’t be surprised if something lunged no sooner they took that wood away. She would just have to be brave and do her best not to scream. Sucking in her breath, she watched the space before her.

“Two.”

Velma waited at the office due to Shaggy’s concern and should something run from this secret hideaway then she would let everyone in before closing the doors. All cameras were moved to the backstage area. Some even offered her a glimpse into the area where if she looked close enough she could see Shaggy’s legs shaking.

“Three!”

The weight of the animatronics and Shaggy’s and Fred’s strength bore down on crowbars that were wedged beneath the wood. The slab easily fell from its hinges as it landed with a crash and Shaggy felt his heart stop, having sworn that that wasn’t the only sound he heard. As the wood struck the ground he swore he heard a loud cry erupt from – yet another door? Before them stood another door leading into the room with one lonely lock barring its entrance.

“Another door?” Daphne cried out and Tabitha groaned in sadness.

“We’llnevergetout!” The purple rabbit cried and the other animatronics looked at each other nervously.

“Don’t say that,” Selene chided, sending a glare at Fred who shuddered some. “We have to figure something out.”

“Selene’s right!” Fred spoke almost nervously, his spine still trembling from her stare. “Now where could the key be?”

Before Daphne could even blink, all eyes from the surrounding animatronic heads stared at the gang. Not the ones they befriended, no, no, but rather the ones on the walls. They had been glaring at the gang since the start of this mystery and not once did they offer any solace or comfort. Daphne wasn’t sure what caused these bodiless heads to stare in such malice, but it made her blood run cold. She had felt their stare strengthen as they tried to pry open the door and now searching for the key. Shaggy whipped out his ring of keys assigned to him on the first day and tried every one, but no key matched the lock. The still eyes never ceased their stare upon the gang as Daphne swallowed hard.

Velma had entered in to see how they had made out as she eyed the door. Didn’t phone guy say something about checking the heads? Her eyes widened as she looked around the room at the heads that glared them with darkness in their orbs. Maybe phone guy was onto something, she mused. 

“Maybe,” Velma started in a frightful tone. “Maybe the key is in one of these heads.”

It was on this night Daphne regretted wearing her trademark heels because it gave her a slight advantage to reaching the heads above her. Fear shook her bones some at the chances of a head coming alive and biting her hand off. It was a silly notion, but given everything that had occurred at Fazbear’s she was surprised that the heads hadn’t lunged at them by now. Perhaps the spirits only haunted the suits and nothing else and besides, it had to be her imagination playing tricks on her. There was no way that the all of the heads’ eyes were glaring at her as she neared the first one above her. Swallowing hard, she felt the cold glare pierce her eyes and hover around her soul. Those eyes, she knew, would never leave her mind.

“Okay,” Daphne shakily spoke trying to calm herself. “Here it goes.” 

Her fingers trembled as her fingers neared the open jaw of the Freddy Fazbear head. Its eyes watching her fingertips as they slowly inched ever so closer and she quickly turned away, not wanting to see what would happen. She wouldn’t be able to do much with one hand. Her job would suffer, Fred (would Fred leave her? The idea now frightened her) would have to take up most things, and her life would no longer be the same.

She had been on mysteries before where she could have lost a limb or even her life. Heck, she was even hypnotized at one point by a circus clown. She still had nightmares about that time, but Fred remained true to her. Everyone had seen their fair share of lunacy in their lives, yet the notion of her losing a hand had never seemed more prevalent than now. Clamping her eyes shut, she shoved her hand into the mouth and felt around the shelf and head. Nothing. No key, no lost hand, no chewed off arm, nothing. Daphne swore her head reeled and that she could faint, but the situation at hand kept her grounded.

“Try the other heads.” Velma suggested and Daphne felt her heart stop. There were tons of more heads in the room. She watched as Velma slowly creeped to one of the heads in an attempt to help Daphne. Shaggy and Fred did the same. Their breaths held as their fingers slowly slipped between the jaws of the heads. Terror embraced them until their fingers felt nothing and their hands were spared. Solace soothed their soul even down to the last head when they believed that nothing would be inside. Yet Daphne had to check for the sake of this case and to satisfy her curiosity. 

The last head. Usually the last of something often foretold doom and horrors of the unspeakable kind. Daphne had been well acquainted with that notion through movies and mysteries. Even a few mysteries started off with ‘The Last…’ or ‘The Last of…’. Both were terrifying in their own right because what if they weren’t the last? What if it was all just a decoy for a far greater population of the last of the aliens or the last hellhound? Or, as Shaggy usually dreaded, the last slice of pizza. That thought made her laugh some and she agreed she had a similar experience to that only regarding sushi. Sushi seemed nice now – a comfort food offering relief from this Fazbear nightmare. She would most likely get it back home with Fred to drown out the wailing of children in the suits and how they got there.

One more head to go and she would be temporarily fear free. It hadn’t been so bad, what with everyone helping her and the heads proving to be key less. But then, where could that key be? Daphne reached her hand forward toward the final head.

“Ow!” Velma cried out and Shaggy was automatically at her side. She gripped her wrist, clinging it to her chest.

“Like are you old, Velms?” Shaggy asked without hesitation and was rewarded a kiss on the cheek from Velma. Smiling somberly, her expression relieved Shaggy some.

“I’m okay. I drew my hand back before I could get bit. It looks like some of these heads are old. Rust may have damaged their gears, causing them to-“

**CHOMP.**

Daphne had unconsciously put her hand in the mouth of Freddy Fazbear’s head. Her hand felt motionless and numb as though it wasn’t there. Yet her arm was trembling and she dared not look over, not wanting to believe the reason why her fingers felt so ghostly. From the corner of her eye the head’s eyes glared at her, fresh crimson staining its old dusty teeth. What rested between the two jaws, she knew as she felt the teeth still sinking down into her wrist.

Screaming was captured in her throat. When she tried to make that sound it eluded her. Instead she sounded like a skipping vinyl record, her head gradually turning to meet the fate of her hand. She swore Fazbear’s eyes watched hers in horror as her voice became captured in her chest. It was suffocated by her brain going awry, sending a thousand commands but none were being accomplished other than standing still and staring. Run, scream, feel for the fingers, the fingers, where are the fingers?! Her brain shrieked and she couldn’t respond, no, she didn’t want to respond, knowing damn well where those fingers were along with her palm. Call for Fred, Fred will know what to do, Fred, Fred, Fred, Fred, her mind was stuck on autopilot even as Fred tried to snap her to her senses. She wouldn’t come to, her eyes staring in a trance at the Fazbear head and knowing what she would see if they parted the jaw. Oh but they had to. They had to part the jaw because Daphne knew her hand was inside.

“Shaggy, hand me the crowbar, quick!” Before he could even finish, Shaggy handed him the tool.

“Whathappened?” Tabitha called over, only hearing the bite and not wanting to believe what had occurred. Selene, judging by the sound didn’t want Tabitha to see what happened and pulled her close.

“Is-is-is she okay?” Andrew asked, his one animatronic eye trying to get a glimpse of what just happened.

From the dining hall, Troy was still crying blood intermingled with mucus as it spilled onto the clean tiles from the day. He hadn’t heard the snap, but he knew what waited for them was much worse.

“Daphne! Daphne!” Velma gripped Daphne’s slender shoulders and shook her. She knew she had to regain Daphne’s senses while struggling to keep hers’ and that it wouldn’t be easy. Velma believed what occurred as much as she didn’t want to, but denial wouldn’t have helped. Velma locked her eyes with Daphne’s, trying to help her awaken from her terror induced trance. Daphne felt like a shaking limp noodle and Velma knew that she was possibly enduring shock. It was something she had read about in medical records and victims were offered special blankets to help reduce the feeling. There were no shock blankets to be found let alone any solace. Knowing this, Velma had to shake her awake against the medical journals’ advice on not to do so.

“Daphne! It’s Velma! Daphne!” Ignoring the blood on her friend’s dress and cheek, Velma shook her gently to rouse her. Daphne was still locked in a trance, but only now her eyes began to water. Velma wasn’t hurting her, by no means did she intend to if she was, and she watched as her friend’s orbs began to swell greatly.

“Daphne?!”

Daphne responded with an ear splitting shriek that silenced Velma’s method and brought the animatronics to their knees and against the wall, trying to cope with this sound. They hadn’t heard screams like this before or in the least since the ones they cried during their murders. It was a sound that they never imagined would cause them to cringe – the screaming of a woman whose hand was lost to something they did not control, much like their lives. Tabitha clung to Selene, Troy coiled upon himself so terribly that he heard Freddy’s internal wires and beams groan in protest, and Andrew pressed himself to the wall to stay grounded despite the fear shaking his soul. Shaggy reeled on his heels, having never heard Daphne shriek sound so loud since one of their old mysteries. Though he was surprised that she hadn’t broken earlier or screamed from all the sights they had endured. Perhaps her tolerance was increased and she was far braver than he imagined. Regardless, Velma fell away from Daphne and stayed close to Shaggy, knowing her work was done. All she could offer now was her presence to be there for her. 

Daphne’s scream instilled so much strength in Fred that he pried apart the jaw with ease. Shoving the crowbar between the jaws, he turned his focus to Daphne. He swore Fazbear’s eyes rolled over to him and he knew better than to stick his hand inside without some support preventing a fate similar to Daphne’s hand. Looking into the parted reddened maws, he felt his stomach curl and churn as though he had ridden a roller coaster consisting of nothing but loops. He had seen bloodied victims before in cases and yet, nothing could prepare him for the sight before him.

Daphne’s hand lied like fresh roadkill. Granted, if it were anyone else’s hand that wasn’t a part of the gang he would feel sympathy, but not the terror coursing through his veins. This was the hand of his beloved’s, his wife’s, his everything. This was the hand that would stroke his cheek and hair, that would make him lunch for work and dinner when he came home, that would hold him close, that he would kiss dearly and tenderly. This was a part of his woman that had been lost to a rusty old head and he swore he would most likely destroy this head in particular, if not all of them. It was the last night here and it was never opening again, so who would notice? He would make sure no harm would come to anyone, especially with this case. If Fred ever found out where Paul Giddeon was, he would never let him live it down especially due to the loss of his wife’s hand.

Crimson stained Daphne’s pretty fingers and the palm that he once held. He swore more blood poured out from the frayed nerves and veins that sparked out from the lost appendage. It made the hand pulsate like a heart and twitch like uneven electric currents and he bit his inner cheek to swallow the bile building in his stomach. Daphne’s pupils moved to how her hand rested away from her wrist and how her frayed nerves still made her arm, if not her body tremble. She swore she was screaming, but she wasn’t now. The sound tried to make its way through her throat once more, only what came from her lips was a culmination of sobbing and short, choked shrieks.

Daphne’s delicate fingers loosely clasped a key. But it wasn’t just a key. No, no. This was the key that had brought them to the ultimate point of no return. The final bout of sanity loss (they hoped) in this case, wherein they would open the door, peer into that secret room, and discover Paul Giddeon or hopefully, the resolution to this case. Yet why did she have to suffer for it, Fred mused to himself rather angrily. She was safe this whole time, not a scratch had come to her, but now – now in their final time of this ungodly mystery did harm have to fall upon her. Fred had endured a terrible cut, Shaggy some sanity loss, and even Velma some sanity loss, but Daphne, nothing had ever touched her in this case. If Fred could have, he would have punched a wall a few times and cursed this place to the ground, but not with Daphne and his friends still inside.

“We need to get this medically treated.” Velma tried to bring reason to table while swallowing her own fear. Quickly grabbing a pair of scissors on the work table, Fred cut off the sleeve of his sweater and used it as a makeshift bandage on Daphne’s new injury. Daphne dared not struggle or protest against his treatment and when he secured the wound, he kissed the cloth before kissing her lips. She didn’t respond, still too stunned from what had just occurred and the thousands of thoughts unraveling in her head.

“Velms, like, get Daphne to the hospital,” Shaggy spoke despite his knees shaking with fear at what had just occurred. Trying to keep a grip on the situation at hand, it was immediately broken by Daphne glaring at him with tearful eyes and puffy cheeks.

“I want Fred!” Daphne screamed in panic. “I need Fred, Fred don’t leave me please, Fred-“

“Daphne,” Fred cooed and quickly embraced her as she sunk into his arms. “I will not leave you or love you less than this. You need to get to a hospital, okay? Shaggy and I will stay here and try to put an end to this. Daphne? Daphne?!”

Daphne didn’t move, her head buried into Fred’s shoulder as her body seemed lighter than usual. Velma leaned up, feeling for a pulse at her wrist before flinching and quickly switching to her neck.

“She must have fainted.” Velma remarked quietly as Fred held her tightly and buried his head into her hair. He couldn’t cry now as much as he wanted to. He had to be the strong one. He had to remain the strong one in this case and biting his lower lip hard, he swallowed the tears building in his eyes. He should have made her stay with Scooby Doo in the hotel room or in the least, keep her away from all of this. Yet it couldn’t be helped and no one knew this would happen. Holding her tightly, Fred felt his spine tremble in fear and concern for Daphne.

“Velma, take Daphne to the hospital.” Fred spoke sternly, not making eye contact with anyone. “Shaggy and I will deal with whatever’s behind that door.” Velma nodded, only to look over at Shaggy who somberly returned the gesture- not wanting her to go, but for her to stay to act as his source of strength.

Taking a deep breath, Fred fished the keys to the Mystery Machine out of his pocket and tossed them to Velma. Hoisting Daphne into his arms properly, he bit his inner gum as he was suddenly reminded of his wedding day. The last time he had carried Daphne like this she was awake and smiling, her eyes and grin as bright as the sun. Her dress was long and trailed, even as he carried her down the aisle. The guests greeted them with cheers and smiles and he remembered how Shaggy and Scooby happily cried to see their good friends finally tying the knot. Sunlight poured in from the stained glass windows that day and only now did he long for the warmth of the sun as opposed to the dark, cold interior of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

Looking down, he saw Daphne’s cheeks were puffed and tinted with blood drops. Her tangerine strands fell loosely around her as opposed to her wedding when they were stylized like her face. Her hands….hand, hung loosely at her side not only onto his suit or a bouquet. Fred grit his teeth and watched from the corner of his eye as Shaggy cooed sweet nothings and promises of safety and staying sane to Velma. She nodded with every crossing of his heart he did and believed everything he said. In a matter of this week he had become a magician of words powered by the love pumping in his heart for the short brainy woman of the group. 

While Fred would have smiled, for a moment he felt envy that he wished he had the moment that the two shared. Oh yes, he had had times like this before where he would reassure Daphne that everything was all right, but now, now he needed that moment the most. Because he wasn’t sure lied behind that fateful door and only now did he wonder if whatever was beyond it would cost him his life. To never see Daphne again would crush him entirely, to be deceased to the whole gang would break his very soul, but if it was to put this case to rest then maybe it would be worth it. Velma’s little laughter broke his thoughts and he sighed to himself. Envy was not healthy and he was happy that the two beside him started something new that he knew was wonderful.

“Like text me when you get there and when Daphne’s up.” Shaggy spoke softly and Velma reassured him that she would, before kissing him as though he were about to go to war and never return. Normally, he would have responded in his dumbfound nature being surprised by the wondrous feel of passion radiating from her lips. If anything, he held her close as though he would never see her in a thousand lifetimes and returned with his own brand of love that she seemingly melted into.

“Be safe.” Velma murmured against his lips and embraced him once more. Placing a final kiss on his cheek, she turned on her heel and allowed Fred to lead the way.

“Don’tworry,” Tabitha chirped. “Wecandothis!” The hope of a little girl trapped within a mechanical coffin was enough to break and warm their hearts. Her saddened fate made their hearts beat dismally, but to know that she was more than determined to be free was enough to strength them some. Even Selene’s soul smiled at the Bonnie bound girl and knew she would be joining her as well in the afterlife. 

As they walked toward the back exit of Fazbear’s, Shaggy felt his spine run cold as though someone was watching him. Yes, all eyes within the room still fell upon him from the bodiless heads, but it was the animatronics who scared him more than ever. Selene and Tabitha rushed behind Shaggy like children scared of lightening and Andrew stood his ground like a guard dog on the attack. All eyes now shifted from Shaggy to the door as from it came a rather loud noise that sounded like hands slamming on a hard surface.

“Whatisthat?!” Tabitha cried out, terror crawling from her frame.

“Don’t be scared, we’re almost there!” Selene responded sharply.

Shaggy swallowed hard, knowing that it was still a long night to go, but hopefully it would be the last.


End file.
